Look Inside
by Kyriebess
Summary: Complete! Sam and Dean investigate a cursed diner. As the hunt begins to hurt and affect both brothers, they will have to rely on each other for wisdom, determination, support, and survival. Sam angst, Dean angst. Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Dean, protective!both
1. Green Eggs and Ham

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters (aka: Sam and Dean). The rest of the plot and the other characters are mine…uh, I also don't own Green Eggs and Ham, that belongs to the late great Dr. Seuss. And I also don't own The Lambton Worm, that belongs to C.M. Leumane_

_**Warnings:** Language, although nothing that wouldn't be on the show. In later chapters, some violence and male nudity (nothing sexual). I will give warnings before the chapter with the nudity and a summary at the beginning of the next chapter for anyone who is uncomfortable reading that. It's not graphic though…_

_ For those of you who are reading this on the other site, due to not wanting to inadvertently offend people, I changed some things…and it actually ended up fitting better than the original…go figure._

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"You are such an ass." Sam glared in his brother's direction before turning his view back out the Impala's windshield. The brothers were driving down Route 50, through the Colorado Rockies. The mountain views and scenery were breathtaking, but Dean's annoying personality seemed to be taking away from the incredible landscape, at least that was Sam's opinion.

Dean laughed at his brother's annoyance. "Come on Sam. Don't be such a wuss."

Sam shot another glare at his brother, "Wuss has nothing to do with it. _Wuss_ implies fear. Fear is not my problem. Having a brother that's an ASS is my problem." And once again Sam's attention returned to the mountains.

Dean continued to snicker, "You lost the coin toss fair and square."

Sam continued to view the scenery, "Nooo…I didn't even know there _was_ a coin toss."

Dean interrupted, "You called tails!"

Sam argued, "You said, 'call it' so I called tails. You didn't tell me what I was calling for. It doesn't count."

Dean sighed, still smirking, "Whine, whine, whine. You called it…it counts."

Sam shook his head, "It doesn't."

"Say what you want Sam, it counts. You and I both know it." Silence stretched for a minute before Dean added to his argument, "Besides…you owe me."

Sam turned his attention back to Dean, annoyed, "What the hell for?"

Dean grinned, "Green Eggs and Ham."

"What?"

Dean looked briefly at his brother's confused face before turning his attention back towards the road. "Green Eggs and Ham. Every day for two years, at _least_ ten times a day. You owe me Sam."

Sam turned back to the mountains and glared at them. He had no good argument for that, although he was thinking of something along the lines of a statute of limitations for those sorts of things, but still, Dean _did_ have to read that story at least ten times a day for two years. Sam had lost the argument and if looks could kill, those mountains would be dead by now.

Dean smiled in his victory, not that there was ever any doubt. Even with the coin toss. Sam always picked tails, which is why Dean carried a two-tailed coin around. Dean resisted laughing out loud. Sam always picked tails because he never wanted to be tricked by a two-headed coin. Dean shook his head…stupid kid. Got a free ride to Stanford and it never occurred to him that there could be a two-_ tailed_ coin…

"I'm not doing it."

Dean turned his attention back to his irritated brother and rolled his eyes. Fine. If Sam was going to be annoying about this- so could he- and Dean versus Sam in the ability to annoy? Poor Sammy…he had no chance. "I do not like them Sam-I-am, I do not like green eggs and ham."

Sam's eyes shot daggers at his brother, but he stood his ground. "No Dean. Forget it. The coin toss doesn't count and I'm not doing it."

Dean remained perfectly calm and content as he continued his argument, "I do not like them here or there, I do not like them anywhere."

Sam scowled and turned so that he was looking out the passenger window- with his back to his brother.

"Could you? Would you? With a goat? Could you? Would you? On a boat? Could you? Would you? In the rain? Could you? Would you? On a train?"

Growling, Sam threw himself around in the seat so that he was once again looking at Dean. "Enough dude. Stop. It's not gonna happen."

Dean continued to face the road, no sign that he even heard his brother, "I would not, could not with a goat. I would not, could not on a boat. I would not, could not in the rain. I would not, could not on a train."

Sam growled again and angrily flipped his body back towards the window.

"I will not eat them in a house, I will not eat them with a mouse. I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am."

Sam stared out the window as he spoke to his brother, "Dean…I swear to God…"

"Not in the dark! Not in a tree! Not in a car! You let me be! I do not like green eggs and ham! I do not like them, Sam-I-am!"

Sam laid back in the seat and covered his face with his hands and yelled, "Stop!"

Dean looked at his brother as though hearing him for the first time, "Stop? Stop? You want me to _stop_ reciting Green Eggs and Ham? Huh…hmm…ya know…as I seemed to remember…there were many…MANY…times that I asked _you_ if I could stop reading Green Eggs and Ham and…if my memory serves me…you said, and I quote, 'Please Dean? But that book is my favorite. It has my name in it. Please, I'll do whatever you want if you read it again…'"

Sam peeked one eye out through the fingers covering his face and Dean grinned at him. Sam, spoke through gritted teeth and his hands, "That doesn't count. I was five."

Dean returned his attention to the road still grinning. "You said it, I read it, you owe it and you know it."

Sam growled again and then whined into his hands. Finally admitting defeat, Sam let his hands drop from his face as he sulked in his seat. "Fine. I'll do it. But you don't get to bring up Green Eggs and Ham for at least a year."

Dean grinned, but said nothing. Spotting "Danny's Bunkhouse" up ahead, the first motel in over one hundred fifty miles, Dean pulled over to the motel's dirt lot. "This looks like a good place."

Sam looked around the area seeing only mountains, wildflowers, dirt, and grass. "How far is the restaurant from here?"

Dean looked at his brother, "_Restaurant _is a bit of a stretch. The _diner _should be about 10 miles up the road in the local town."

Sam nodded, making a face to once again let Dean know how unhappy he was with what he was being forced to do.

Dean laughed at him and then hit him in the arm, "Come on Sammy. We'll get checked in and then make our way down to the diner. This way we'll already have a place ready…you know…in case."

Sam gave his brother a look before stepping out of the car and slamming the door. "Great…"

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_Review and let me know if you're enjoying it so far..._


	2. The Lambton Worm

_Thank you for all the reviews! I have replied to each of them, but it seems that the alerts and pms are down, so you won't be getting them for a while. But they are in coming! But in the meantime- Thank you!!!_

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**Chapter 2: The Lambton Worm**_  
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A short while later, Sam found himself carrying his bag and following his brother into the woods, "Where the hell are we going?"

Dean paused as he checked the map given to him by the motel's owner, "Cabin 8." He looked up at the forest of evergreens. "Uhh…I think it's down that trail on the right."

Sam shook his head and resumed following his brother. "Well, this'll be easy to get to when I'm doubled over in pain."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's sarcasm. "You don't know it'll be painful…"

Sam stopped walking and waited for his brother to turn around before giving him a look of disbelief. Upon seeing Sam's look, Dean raised his eyebrows in challenge, "Would you eat them in a box? Would you eat them with a fox?"

Sam exhaled loudly and stomped his way past his brother, "Shut up! I said I'd do it."

Dean grinned at his brother's back and then ran to catch up. "Then quit whining about it."

Within a minute, the brother's found themselves inside a small log cabin. A fireplace adorned one corner, a small sink, counter, and stove in the other. In front of the fireplace was a couch, across from the kitchenette was a small wooden table with four chairs. The two queen sized beds sat opposite each other in the two far corners of the room and the bathroom lay in between them, directly across from the door.

The cabin itself was made of a highly shellacked, light brown wood. Beams of the wood cut across the ceiling, matching the logs that lined the walls. Western themed carpet and bedspreads completed the room. Dean looked around as he dropped his bag on his bed. "This place ain't bad. You believe it was only $40 a night?"

Still sulking, Sam nodded, "Considering the fact that we are smack in the middle of the Rockies and nobody ever comes here, it's not exactly a shock, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's attitude; it was getting on his nerves. "You don't know that Sam."

Sam looked around, "Well, I _do _know that there's no heat in this place." He went over to the sink and turned on the faucet. "Yep…" He looked back at Dean, "And the water's brown."

Dean made a face at the water, but refused to be brought down by his brother's bad mood. "We don't need heat. That's why we have a fireplace. And…" Dean made another face at the water, "it's…uhh…it's probably from a well. I'm sure if you run it long enough it'll clear up."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Dean…you do realize that we have to shower in this."

Dean made another face disgust and then replaced it with one of determination. "Be a man Sammy. Come on. We're in a log cabin in the middle of the Rockies and we're about to hunt the Lambton worm."

Sam shook his head, "What the hell _is_ a Lambton worm anyway?"

Dean stared at his brother, "The Dragon of the Wear River?"

Sam stared back blankly and Dean's face slowly broke into a grin, "Wait. Wait a minute…don't tell me I know something about literature that you don't…"

Sam found himself glaring at his brother for at least the eighth time that day. "I don't know who or what the Dragon of the Wear River is, but I'm pretty sure it's not literature."

Dean scoffed and made his way to the cabin door, "The Lambton Worm is an old folksong" A quick look at Sam showed that he didn't recognize the name. Dean shook his head, "It's a classic of British literature. I can't believe they let you into Stanford."

Sam shook his head following his brother out the door. "Okay…fine…so…what's a Lambton worm?"

Dean sighed as he walked back to the car, "It's a black slimy worm that lived in the Wear River. It got caught by this kid, John, when he went fishing. Then this old guy told John not to put the thing back in the river, so he threw the worm into the well. Over the next 20 years or so, the worm grew in the well and it became a giant dragon. Then it got out of the well and started eating all the farm animals. Then John came back from the Crusades and vowed to kill the dragon, but the town cursed him and said that if he kills the dragon, he has to kill the first thing he sees after that too. After this epic battle, John wins and makes it back to his house, blowing a horn to announce that he slayed the dragon. Then without thinking, the dude's old man comes out of the house to see him. John couldn't kill his father, so the curse remained and nine generations of his family were cursed with horrible deaths."

Sam nodded, "Riiight. Clearly a classic."

Dean agreed, ignoring his brother's sarcasm, "Right. You'd like the story." He shot his brother an arrogant look, "Although it's written in phonetically in the British dialect…your high and mighty brain probably wouldn't understand."

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes, "Well, if your Lambton worm story was such a classic, how come you never read it to me? You know, in between all the Green Eggs and Ham?"

Dean thought as he got into his car, why hadn't he read the story to Sam? Dean remembered the poem fondly. It was one of his favorites as a child. He remembered his father singing it to him, doing the voice of 'the old witch' with Dean laughing hysterically. He remembered admiring John for the way he slew the dragon. And he remembered always wanting to see a Lambton worm...why, he didn't know, clearly the thing had been evil, but still, he had wanted to see one. Now he'd finally get to see one, but back to the question, why hadn't he read the poem to Sam? Or why hadn't _their father_ read the poem to Sam? Dean looked over at his brother, "You sure we never read it to you?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, "_We_? Dean, dad hardly ever read me anything, other than books on weapons and gun maintenance…I'm guessing your Lambton worm wasn't high on his list."

Dean thought again, he had vivid memories of his father reading to him. Had their dad really never read to Sam? Then he remembered more- a brief flash of sitting on his mother's lap as his father read The Lambton Worm. Oh…and that would be why Sam didn't know it- why their dad never read it to him. It was something they did with mom. The book probably burned in the fire along with her. He had loved that book, but given the fact that he had loved his mother more, it really wasn't surprising that he hadn't noticed when the book had been lost until now. Dean tried to think back, he wondered if he had bothered his father about reading the Lambton worm story as much as Sam had bothered him about Green Eggs and Ham. Dean's heart clenched as he realized he would never be able to ask, or know the answer to that question.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

Dean snapped from his morose reverie and looked up at his brother. Sam was looking at him concerned. Shaking his head, Dean started the car. "You want to know what a Lambton worm is…don't worry Sammy, if all goes well, we'll be meeting one in a few hours."

Sam nodded and gave an annoyed smile, his thoughts brought back to what he was about to do. "Great…can't wait."

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Fifteen minutes later, Dean parked the car in front of 'Molly's Diner,' their evening destination. The 'town' appeared to be one block long, consisting of the diner, 'Bob's General Store', 'High Country Bank', 'St. Andrew's Episcopal Church', 'Dot's Second Hand Clothing Store', 'Annie's Antiques', 'The Watering Hole Bar and Grille', and 'Little Pep's Ice Cream Shop'. Mountains surrounded the small town and no people or houses were in sight. Dean turned towards his brother, "I'm waiting for the tumble weed to come out and roll across the road."

Sam looked around and slammed the car door, "Tumbleweed is in the desert; this is the mountains."

Dean scowled, Sam's attitude was really getting on his nerves. "Whatever. The point is, there's nobody here."

Sam agreed, "Yeah, well, I really can't say that I blame them. I mean, I don't know who would be crazy enough to eat here after a bunch of people vomited living Lambton worms after eating the food."

Dean glared at his brother- Sam's sarcasm REALLY was getting on his nerves. "It's not like anyone _died_ Sammy. Sometimes you just have to take one for the team."

Sam shot his brother a look and Dean sent him back a sarcastic smile before walking towards the diner. Once again lamenting his impending actions, Sam sighed, thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets, and with his head down, followed his brother into the diner.

The diner itself was an old building that seemed to have come out of a western movie- except that it was painted bright blue. It was a two story, wooden building with a double porch (a second floor porch that hung over the outside of the store, creating a first floor canopy). Inside the diner, the scenery changed. Although still old, the diner's interior was a natural wood color as opposed to the bright blue that covered it's exterior. The lighting was dim, with the area being lit only by three small ceiling fans.

Along the front windows, there were four small wooden booths, large enough to fit two people each. In the center of the wooden floor were three round wooden tables, each with four wooden chairs. Finally, across the room, was the small wooden counter behind which sat two women, one who looked to be in her forties and another who looked to be around fifteen. Both women looked up startled as the boys entered the diner.

Dean smiled, "We just got into town and my brother here is real hungry. We were wondering if you ladies were open."

The fifteen year old blushed as the other woman, presumably her mother, smiled back and directed the brothers to one of the window booths.

Sam spoke to her as she handed them menus. "The town seems awfully quiet."

The older woman appeared flustered by Sam's comment, but managed to find an answer, "Town's been comin' down with somethin'." She nodded over to her daughter, "They even closed the school."

Sam nodded, "That's too bad. Anyone know what it is?"

Clearly uncomfortable, the older waitress just shrugged and shook her head. "Can I get you boys anything to drink?"

Sam nodded, "Ginger ale?" Given the night he was probably in for, ginger ale seemed a good preventative measure. The waitress nodded and turned to Dean, who smiled up at her, "I'll just have water, thanks." Then he handed her back the menu.

The waitress looked at him confused, "Aren't you gonna eat somethin'?"

Dean shook his head, "Nah. I picked up some food on the way here and I'm still pretty full. It's this one that'll be doing all the eating." Dean smiled at Sam, who glared back. Accepting Dean's explanation, she took his menu and left.

Once she was out of earshot, Sam spoke to his brother, serious, "Dean. I don't want to do this."

Dean sighed, feeling a little guilty given Sam's amount of discomfort with the task, "Sam, one of us has to do it..."

Sam interrupted, "Why? Why don't we just look for one of the worms that's already been 'born'?"

Dean sighed again, "And how're we gonna do that? Sam, I get that you're not looking forward to this man. Believe me, I get it, but it's gotta happen. We don't even really know what these things look like. All we have is that girl's description…and we have no idea where they go after they're 'born'. AND we don't know what's in the food that's creating them."

Sam nodded, "That's my point Dean. We don't know anything about these things and yet you want me to create one in my stomach and then vomit it up."

"Sammy, it's not dangerous. The girl said all the people it happened to were fine afterwards. It's just disgusting."

Sam stared at his brother, "That doesn't make me feel any better."

Dean twirled his fork in his hand, "Either you do it or I do it."

Sam made no response, but continued his stare. Dean grinned, "You do not like them.  
So you say. Try them! Try them! And you may. Try them and you may, I say."

Sam gritted his teeth and growled at his brother. "You are SUCH an ASS."

Before more could be said, the waitress returned with the boys' drinks. Putting them down, along with two straws, she turned to Sam, "What can I get ya sweetie?"

Still unwilling to order, Sam stared at the waitress. Dean took the opportunity to speak up, "Do you have any green eggs and ham?"

Sam kicked his brother under the table and Dean doubled over to rub his leg while still laughing at his own joke.

Not fully understanding the brothers' private joke, the waitress stared confused for a moment before answering, "We can make some green eggs and ham if you really want them."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise (still rubbing his leg) and the waitress explained with a smile, "We cook up green eggs and ham for the local school every year on Dr. Seuss' birthday. It's just a matter of green food coloring." She looked over at Sam, "Did you want some?"

Dean nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, he does."

Sam glared across the table and replied through gritted teeth, "No, he doesn't." Then he turned to the waitress, "I'll just have whatever's your most popular dish."

The waitress smiled and nodded, "Meatloaf alright?"

Sam agreed, "Meatloaf's fine."

Dean grinned and took a sip of his water as the waitress left. Looking at the water, he held it up for his brother to see, "See Sammy, the place can't be all bad. At least the water's clear."

Sam looked at his brother through squinted eyes, "Bite me."

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_Did you enjoy it? Review and let me know!_


	3. Snap, Crackle, Pop

_Once again, thank you for all the reviews! I'm still not sure if the replies are coming through…the site seems to be inconsistent. But I AM replying to everyone. And for Doublevision, Swenglish, LynyrdSkynyrdRoadi, and anon, thanks so much for your reviews. I'm so glad to know that you've been enjoying the story so far. This particular chapter may be surprising…and a bit gross...  
_

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**Chapter 3: Snap, Crackle, Pop**_  
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Two hours later, the boys found themselves trekking back through the woods towards their cabin. By now the sun had set and clouds had rolled in over the mountains. The wind was picking up, making it clear that there would be a storm tonight.

The clouds made the night even darker and Sam squinted against the wind to see the cabin. He was on edge, waiting for the feeling of nausea to envelop him. So far though, he felt fine, and the impending sickness was more disturbing than anything that was actually occurring. What was even more disturbing was the fact that the food had been really good…going down. He doubted that it would taste that good going up. If he even tasted anything. Briefly Sam wondered what a Lambton worm would taste like, but then banished that thought. No point in wondering, he'd find out soon enough.

Sam shook off his thoughts as he entered the cabin. It was cold and dark. He noticed Dean feeling along the wall for a light switch.

Sam felt along the other wall, but couldn't find one. Then he heard Dean laugh. "So I think I know why there's no heat."

Sam turned to hear his brother's explanation, "There's no electricity out here."

Sam nodded. Of course there was no electricity, why would there be electricity? "I'll go start a fire then."

In the dark, Sam saw his brother nod. "I'll go out and bring in some of the wood piled on the side of the cabin. Hey…at least we don't have to chop our own firewood."

Sam sarcastically agreed, "Yeah. How nice of them. It's like a regular five star resort."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Just light the wood that's already in the fireplace." Then he left the cabin.

Sam heard the loud clap of thunder just as he kneeled by the fireplace. A few seconds later, Sam cringed hearing the loud downpour of rain. The rain drummed against the trees that covered the cabin causing the already hefty drops to combine into even larger ones before hitting the roof of the cabin. Sam worked quickly, rearranging the wood and the provided "firestarter log" as best he could in the dark. Just as the water began to drip down the chimney, Sam lit a match and ignited the logs. The fire grew quickly, attacking the few drops of water that had made their way into the chute.

Sam had just began poking the fire when Dean reentered the cabin, soaked to the bone, and carrying a large load of wood in his arms. Sam smiled, moving to mock his brother's appearance, but he stopped himself. Something in Dean's face seemed off. So, rather than mock his brother, Sam walked over and helped his brother unload the wet firewood.

With the door shut and the firewood re-piled on the inner wall, Sam turned to see Dean brushing the excess water out of his hair with his hands. The firelight reflected against the drops of water covering Dean's face and his body was cast in a flickering red glow. Noticing Sam's stare, Dean turned to him serious, "Sam? How do you feel right now?"

Sam thought for a moment and then shrugged, "I feel fine. Not even a little nauseous."

Dean nodded and then swallowed. "I…uh…" Dean broke off and shook his head. Then he slowly walked over to the fireplace and crouched before it, trying to warm himself.

Still waiting for the rest of the sentence Sam prompted his brother, "Dean?"

Dean nodded and looked at the flames, "I don't think it was the food that was creating the Lambton worms."

Sam's eyebrows rose and he shook his head in confusion, "What do you mean? If it's not the food, what is it?"

Dean took a breath before answering, "I think it's the diner's water."

Sam stood processing the comment, "The water? Why do you…Oh." Sam eyed his brother in sympathy. It really was an ironic moment, one that certainly served Dean right for trying to trick Sam into pain and nausea with a double-sided coin. Yes- he knew about the coin. But as much as he would love to rub the irony in his brother's face, he could tell from Dean's body language and short responses, that his brother was in pain…and Sam just didn't have it in him to mock that.

Taking a breath, Sam walked over to his brother. "Dean? Why don't you change into dry clothes?"

Dean shook his head, still staring at the fire rather than Sam, "I don't want to move."

Sam nodded, "I'll get the bucket."

The bucket was a large plastic container, 2½' X 2½'X 1' (77cm X 77cm X 31cm), with a lid, which the brothers had bought before leaving the previous town in preparation for this hunt. They were hoping, based on the girl's description of the Lambton worm, that the container would be large enough to hold the worm so that they could keep it contained while destroying it.

Sam placed the bucket in front of his brother by the fire and stood back. He took in Dean's pale, clammy skin, his gasping breaths, his clothes eyes, and the arm covering his stomach and Sam knew it wouldn't be long before he would see his first Lambton worm.

Sure enough within a few minutes, Dean's breath hitched and he leaned over the bucket with a horrible retching sound. Sam paced around his brother, torn between giving Dean privacy and wanting to see the worm. The retching continued and Sam began to see the oily black creature slowly ooze out of his brother's mouth. The creature was pure black with liquid, iridescent swirls floating through the black coloring.

Dean's eyes were closed with tears streaming out of them. His nostrils were flared as he tried to breathe around the creature that was now obstructing his throat and airway. Dean's stomach gave another heave and more of the oily creature oozed out. Sam had expected the creature's 'birth' to be a faster process. The way the girl had described it, he had expected the worm to be puked up in an almost liquid form, but this one, the one in front of him had the consistency of a living organism- not liquid.

A minute passed and Sam grew worried for his brother. The creature was still obstructing Dean's airway and was now over two feet (61cm) long. It was curled up in the tub, floundering about like a fish out of water. Each of the creature's floundering movements clearly caused pain for Dean.

Even in the limited light, Sam could see that Dean's face was red; blue veins beginning to pop out in his forehead and neck as he fought the strain of not breathing while bearing a Lambton worm from his mouth. As Sam watched his brother struggle, he realized that something had to be done.

The worm was now too big for the bucket and the black mass was beginning to take a shape. The oily black substance was beginning to grow what looked to be a small head. Below the growing head were clearly broad shoulders leading into stubs where the arms would be. A torso followed below the shoulders and the rest, whatever it may have been, was still inside Dean.

As Sam looked at the creature, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Dean beginning to fall over. The lack of oxygen was beginning to have its effect and Dean was losing consciousness. Quickly Sam looked around for something to help his brother.

Sam grabbed the nearby fireplace poker and stabbed it through the creature, hoping that the worm would be easier for Dean to expel if it were dead. The plan worked- although not the way Sam had expected.

Sam's attack on the creature caused it to literally deflate, as though he had used the poker to pop a balloon. However, rather than being filled with air, it seemed the worm was filled with maggots. As Sam pulled the poker out from where he had stabbed the creature, hundreds of black maggots, with little red eyes, began crawling out of the hole. As the maggots crawled out, the worm collapsed leaving it's thin black skin behind. Within seconds, thousands of maggots had filled the plastic container and overflowed onto the cabin floor.

A retching sound brought Sam's attention back to his brother who was thankfully able to breathe once again. The worm's skin hung out of his mouth as his body attempted to vomit the rest of the creature's skin out of its system. However, the skin was thinner than the creature had been and therefore took up less room in Dean's throat. Dean gasped and coughed while he attempted to evict the rest of the worm from his body. In an attempt to speed the expulsion along, Dean grabbed the skin with his hands and began pulling it out of his mouth, throat, and stomach.

A tickling sensation on his leg brought Sam's attention down to his feet. The maggots were beginning to climb up his right leg. With a yell, Sam shook his foot, sending most of the maggots back down to the floor. The rest were swiped off with the poker. In an attempt to kill the maggots, Sam began jumping and stepping on the vile organisms. However, it was quickly obvious that the maggots were not…squishable. The bodies were hard and maintained their shape under the pressure of Sam's foot. Once again, maggots began crawling up Sam's leg.

As Sam danced around, swiping maggots off his feet, he heard a sizzling sound. Looking up, he saw the remains of several maggots bubbling in yellow ooze at the edge of the fireplace. Whether it had been the heat or the fire that had killed them Sam didn't know- nor did he care. He now had a way to destroy the thousands of small creatures.

Grabbing the small shovel from the side of the fireplace, Sam began shoveling the maggots into the fire. Smoke billowed out of each shovelfull, accompanied by loud sizzling and popping sounds as the maggots exploded and fried. As more and more maggots were shoveled into the fireplace the putrid smell of sulfur began to fill Sam's nostrils, but there was no time to lament the smell. Focused on his task, Sam continued shoveling until every last maggot had been burned.

Finally, all the maggots were gone- sent to a fiery grave. Sam scanned the floor and container carefully to make sure that he had gotten them all- he had. All that was left of the once Lambton worm was its skin lying flat in the container. Accepting that the creature was completely destroyed, Sam replaced the poker and shovel and turned to his brother.

Dean was seated on the floor having pushed himself a few feet back from the plastic container. He was clearly breathing as Sam could hear the quick and heavy breaths, intermixed with coughs, as well as see Dean's body move with each inhale and exhale. Dean's head, however, was in his hands, making it impossible for Sam to read his brother's face. "Dean?"

Dean took in a deep breath before he moved his hands down and slowly raised his eyes to his brother. Pain and disgust shined through his pupils. Sam crouched in front of his brother and put a hand on Dean's knee. "You ok man?"

Dean scowled and knocked Sam's hand off his knee, "Dude, get off me."

Sam raised his hands in surrender and stepped back, giving his brother some space. If Dean was well enough to tell Sam to back off, then he was well enough _for_ Sam to back off.

Walking over to his bag, Sam pulled out a knife and returned to the plastic container. Using the knife, Sam examined the worm skin. The iridescent streaks were now gone along with the liquidity of the surface. Where as it was once an oily black, the skin now took on a dull, dark brown color. Cautiously, Sam lifted the skin with the knife and touched it with his other hand. It had a rubbery feel to it and a thin, almost invisible layer of slime seemed to coat it.

"You using the knife because you're afraid of what's on _it_ or what was in _me_?" Sam jumped at the sound of his brother's voice. Laughing at Dean's comment- he was right, there was no need for caution, the thing had been _in_ Dean- Sam looked over at his brother. Dean had gotten up and was walking over to the front door. Sam watched as his brother moved into the heavy, pounding rain, staring up at the sky with his mouth open. When enough water filled his mouth, Dean swished it through his mouth and spit.

Sam stood up and made his way towards his brother. He shook his leg as the disgust of the recent events caught up with him and the sensation of the crawling maggots resurfaced on his leg…that whole experience had been one of the more repulsive things he had lived through- and he had lived through a lot. Still, it had to have been worse from Dean's perspective.

Standing in the doorway, Sam spoke, "You know we have a faucet."

Mouth filled with water, Dean stared at his brother in disbelief. It took a few seconds, but Dean's logic finally caught up with Sam, "Oh. Right. I forgot."

Dean rolled his eyes and spit. Then he stuck out his tongue with a gag. Making a face, he turned back towards Sam, "It was slimy. I still have the slime in my throat…" He looked at Sam and whined in disgust, "…dude…" He shook his head as he trailed off, once again opening his mouth to the rain. He didn't need to say more, Sam understood. Out of all the most unpleasant, sickening hunts they had been on- this one definitely ranked in the top five.

* * *

_Congrats by the way to anon and MaceyAnn who had the thought that it was possibly not Sam who'd be intimately aquainted with the worm._

_And if you liked this, review, let me know...and those of you dissappointed that it wasn't Sam...have no fear, you'll be satisfied with this story..._


	4. Not Alone

_I'm glad you've returned despite the grossness of the last chapter…this one's considerably less gross…_

_I bow in thanks to all who are reading and especially to those reviewing the story. I'm still not sure if you're receiving my replies, but I have replied to every review. _

_Those I can't reply to:  
Doublevision: good thought and I always thought diner water tasted a little…um, different.  
LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: No need to cross your fingers, it'll come and thanks for sharing the mental image…it made me laugh…  
Anon: I'm glad you liked the Dean angst…it definitely was karma…_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Not Alone**

Sam returned into the cabin, leaving Dean to collect himself in the rain. Dean stood out in the rain allowing the clean water to drench his clothes, hair, and face. His jaw ached from where the muscles had been stretched beyond their endurance. A dull pain also lingered in his throat from where his esophagus had been stretched beyond _its_ capacity. The feeling of the worm stretching his throat lingered along with the creature's horrible taste (a mixture between vomit and rotten eggs). The worst- worse than the ache in his jaw and throat- was the feeling of the creature's slime being built up behind his teeth as the worm scraped its way passed. Just the thought of the slime build-up in his mouth made Dean want to vomit.

Walking into the trees, Dean bent over and vomited any and all of the remains the worm left behind. When he was finished, he sat on a nearby log with his face in his hands. The rain was still pouring down, and the temperature outside had to be in the low 40s (5 C). Dean was freezing, his skin covered in goosebumps, small shivers vibrating through his body…but he didn't care. Freezing meant that he was away from the fire, away from the worm, away from the maggots, and away from that smell. A thought crossed his mind and Dean wondered if he would be better off sleeping in the car…yes, definitely better off sleeping in the car- away from the sulfuric scented fireplace covered in yellow maggot ooze. He was already nauseous enough; he didn't need the fireplace adding to it.

Dean lowered his hands from his face and leaned his forearms on his knees. The pitter patter of the rain hitting the tree leaves was doing its job to calm him down. With a sigh he shook his head. He should have guessed the thing came from the water. In the poem the worm lived in the well…he was never going to hear the end of this from Sam. After all that he had said, after the two-tailed coin…thank God Sam didn't know about that. After all the quotes of Green Eggs and Ham, after all that, Dean, not Sam, but _Dean_ had been the one to vomit the Lambton worm. Dean whined into the air…Sam was never going to let him live this down.

With a sigh, Dean stood up and put on his game face to ready himself for whatever Sam had prepared for him. Shaking some of the water off his body, Dean walked forward and re-entered the cabin. Immediately the sulfuric smell hit him and he considered fleeing to his Impala. But first thing was first, before he could flee, he would need dry clothes, and therefore his bag.

Sam looked up at him as he entered, "Dean? You ok now?"

Dean rolled his eyes, there were moments when Sam truly sounded like he was five years old. Patronizing his brother, Dean answered back, "Yes Sammy. I'm ok now."

Sam picked up on his brother's sarcasm and glared, "You don't have to be such an ass about it. I was just asking considering about 10 minutes ago you were passing out due to lack of oxygen."

Dean shrugged and made his way over to his bed to get his bag. His sneakers squished with every step.

"So what do we do now?"

Dean turned back to his brother, "About what?"

Sam rolled his eyes and motioned towards the bucket, "About the Lambton worm? Dean, we're no better off now than we were before we visited the diner. And how come that worm was so big? From the way the girl in the café described it…she never said anything about it being solid, or filled with maggots, or stopping her breathing."

Dean gave his brother a sarcastic grin, "Maybe I got a rotten one."

Sam exhaled loudly, frustrated at his brother's lack of an answer, "Dean…"

Dean cut him off, "What the hell do you want from me Sam? I don't have all the answers here. Ok? We both have the same amount of information, why don't you use your brain and figure it out for yourself." Looking back to his bed, Dean picked up his bag and made his way to the cabin door.

Sam stepped back, surprised by Dean's verbal attack. His eyes trailed Dean as he walked to the door.

At the door, Dean turned back to his brother, "When you figure it out, let me know. I'll be sleeping in the car."

Sam blinked in confusion, "What? Why?" But Dean was already exiting. Sam jogged to catch up to his brother, catching him just before the door closed. "Dean. Wait a second. Why are you sleeping in the car?"

Dean sighed and moved back into the cabin in order to shield his bag from the rain, "The smell Sam. I don't need to spend all night reliving what may have been the most disgusting moment of my life."

Sam smiled, unable to help himself, "Yeah, you're right, it does smell like green eggs in here doesn't it?"

Sam laughed at his own joke and Dean grumbled under his breath as he glared at his brother. "That's not fair- kicking a man when he's down."

Sam raised his brows, "Like that would've stopped you." He put his hand on his brother's shoulder, "What can I say Dean? I learned from the best."

Dean glared again and threw his brother's hand off his shoulder, "Dude, don't compliment me while you're mocking me."

Sam grew confused at Dean's behavior. He understood Dean's unhappiness regarding the incident, but Dean was acting considerably more grumpy and short tempered than Sam would have expected. "You sure you're ok man?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's never ending concern, "Sam. I'm fine. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, Dean left the cabin and made his way to the car.

Sam stood in the open doorway, watching his brother get pelted by the rain as he walked his way through puddles and down the forest trail. After a few seconds, Dean was out of eyesight and Sam walked back into the cabin.

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Walking around the cabin, Sam began opening all the windows in an attempt to help rid the smell from the cabin. Water came in through the windows, but it was clearly the lesser of the two evils. Looking back at the fireplace, Sam noticed the fire was dying. Grabbing one of the logs that Dean had brought into the room, Sam walked over to the dying flames.

The smell was stronger here and the yellow ooze that once was thousands of maggots was no longer bubbling, having since hardened. Sam did his best to breathe through his mouth and not his nose as he added the new log to the fire. He poked the fire with the poker and reflected on how much he hated fire.

It really was ironic to Sam that he would find himself in a position where he would willingly be setting a fire in his room before going to sleep. How many nights had he woken with a start, fearing that he would see flames sharing the room with him? And now here he was, stoking a fire and hoping that it wouldn't go out too soon into the night.

Sam put down the poker, made his way to his bag, and took out a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt. The crawling sensation left by the maggots still visited Sam every now and then and he would have loved nothing more than to take a shower, but given the status of the water in the town- it wasn't worth the risk. Chances were that 'Danny's Bunkhouse', being 10 miles from 'Molly's Diner', probably had a different water source. Especially since, as Dean had pointed out, the two waters were different colors. However, showering in brown water wasn't all that appealing either.

The thought of walking outside and showering in the rain occurred to Sam, but if Dean ever caught him doing that…no, it wasn't worth it; he'd live with the lingering maggot sensation. Coming to the conclusion, Sam quickly changed into his t-shirt and boxers.

Five minutes later, Sam found himself in bed, under very warm covers, staring at the wooden beams along the ceiling. The tickling crawling sensation seemed to be ever present, along with the sounds of the fire. Sam wasn't sure, but he would have sworn that the crackling of the fire was getting louder.

Drawing up his courage, Sam pushed himself onto his elbows and looked over at the fire. The fire was once again loosing its flames (it needed to be stoked), but other than that, nothing about the fire had changed. Sam listened for the crackling…it was there, but it didn't seem to be any louder than he would have expected. Sam laid back in the bed with a sigh, clearly his fear of fires was playing with his mind.

Before his brain could stop itself, a thought of 'I wish Dean were here' flitted through his head. Angry at the thought, Sam hit himself in the head with his palm as way of punishment. He was 23 years old, he didn't need his brother just because he had to sleep in a room with a working fireplace.

Closing his eyes, Sam breathed deeply in an attempt to calm himself. Feeling slightly more relaxed, Sam once again opened his eyes. The fire cast the room in a red glow, flickering in the wind from the windows, and causing shadows to dance along the walls and ceiling. It was just a fire in a fireplace, non-demonic in every way. Well, except for the dead maggots…

A bright light flashed outside, basking the cabin's interior in white light. A few seconds later, the room shook as the sound of thunder and an explosion rocked through the cabin's walls. Based on the explosion, Sam presumed a tree had just met its maker. He hoped Dean was ok in the car…if Dean had made it to the car.

Grumbling to himself, Sam threw off the covers and padded his way over to the couch where he had thrown his jacket. Fishing through the pockets, Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed Dean's number. Dean picked up on the first ring.

"Don't even tell me that explosion involved you…"

Sam laughed; clearly Dean had been worried about him as well. "No, I was just calling to see if it involved _you_."

Sam heard his brother grumble before responding. "Not even close. So how's the smell?"

Sam smiled and walked back over to his bed, clutching the phone to his ear. "I opened the windows. It's a lot better."

"Forget it Sam. You're not getting me to come back."

Sam glared at the phone, "I didn't ask you, asshole."

He heard Dean laugh through the line, "So that means, what? The floor's getting soaked and every bug in the area is taking shelter in the cabin?"

Sam shrugged and got under the covers, sitting against the headboard. "It's better than the smell."

Dean gave a short laugh and Sam continued, "You still nauseous?"

"Dude. What are you kidding? I'm not gonna be able to eat…or drink…for a week."

Sam went to respond, but before he could, another burst of light filled the room. The light illuminated the man who had been standing in the corner of the cabin. Sam's breath stuck in his throat as the thunder echoed through the mountains.

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_Are you still enjoying the story? Are you not? Either way, review and let me know!_


	5. Mysteries

_So I feel the need to inform everybody that this story, on some level is a mystery. For those of you who enjoy that sort of thing, I'm leaving clues throughout the chapters so that everyone can develop their own theories about what's going on…and of course, a little further down the road it'll all be revealed. So put your detective caps on and look out for seemingly useless, random information…_

_Uh…this also means that the story might be a little confusing (especially for those who don't like mysteries). So, if you're one of those people, I apologize for that. The answers will come at some point, I promise._

_Once again thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really do get so excited whn I see a new review- you all make my day…  
LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie- Glad you still like it, and yeah, Sam was just paranoid…  
__Swenglish- Thanks and really, I promise, Sam angst is coming…_

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**Chapter 5: Mysteries**

"Sam. You there?" Dean's voice broke Sam out of the shock.

"Uh…I have to call you back." And Sam hung up the phone.

So far, he hadn't taken his eyes off of the middle-aged man standing in the corner of the cabin, by the kitchenette. The man was barely visible in the shadows of the corner, which was probably why Sam hadn't noticed him before. Sam thought back through the night's events. He would've noticed if someone had walked into the cabin…unless they walked in while Dean had been choking. But it was more likely that whoever he was, he had been there since before they returned, watching them the entire time. Watching Sam make the fire, watching Dean vomit the worm, watching Sam kill the maggots, watching Dean leave, watching Sam stoke the fire alone, and watching as Sam got changed for bed.

Sam felt the adrenaline move through his system, causing his heart rate to pickup. This intruder had been alone with him for over a half hour now, just standing in the shadows and staring, and Sam hadn't noticed.

Feeling a need to end the peeping tom situation, Sam yelled across the cabin, "Who are you?"

The man said nothing, just continued to stare at Sam from across the cabin. Sam took in the man's appearance. The shadowy figure looked to be around six feet tall, thin build, and was dressed in a loose fitting white t-shirt and khaki pants. The man's hair was cut short, almost shaved, and his receding hairline was obvious. He had recently lost a lot of weight as loose skin hung from his face, neck, and bare arms. In addition to the loose skin, stubble also covered his face and he stared at Sam without expression.

Once again Sam tried to communicate with the intruder, "I can see you standing there. Who are you?"

The man remained still. Without taking his eyes off the creepy figure, Sam reached behind him on the bed and pulled his revolver out from underneath his pillow. He had no intention to shoot the intruder, but thought the gun might at least scare his unknown cabinmate into speaking.

With a swift motion, Sam pulled the gun out in front of him and yelled to the man, "Tell me who you are! Now!"

Still the man said nothing.

Slowly Sam got up from the bed and walked towards the silent figure, with his gun out in front of him. The man's eyes were piercing as they stared Sam down in his approach. Suddenly, the room was filled with a great burst of light. Once again, the light illuminated the man, and Sam saw a predatory grin appear on the man's face. All instincts told Sam to shoot the gun, but this was a person, and Sam couldn't just kill him. Although Sam had to wonder what kind of person would be hiding in another person's cabin in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, silently watching the people who had rented the cabin.

The light fled and took the man's smile along with it. Thunder and another explosion cracked through the air, sending vibrations through the cabin floor and into Sam's body. Suddenly, the door to the cabin swung open and out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw another figure appear. Out of instinct, Sam whirled towards the other figure; gun still out in front. Seeing Sam's gun, the other figure stepped back, hands raised in surrender.

"Damn it Dean!" Heart pounding in his chest from the culmination of the maggots, the fire, the man, and his brother's entrance, Sam turned himself and his gun back towards the corner.

The man wasn't there.

Sam froze and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he realized the man could be anywhere- and he was obviously good at hiding. Frantically, Sam looked around the cabin for the intruder. As he looked, he heard Dean's sneakers squish as he walked up next to him, gun drawn as well. Sam couldn't help feeling relieved that he was no longer alone with the stranger.

As Sam cautiously rotated in his position, Dean spoke, "What's going on?"

"There was a man here. He was standing in the corner just before you walked in, I think he's been here the whole time."

Whereas Sam was cautious and thorough in his examination of the room, Dean was quick and aggressive. As soon as he heard about the intruder, Dean began swiftly walking around the cabin, leaving Sam to slowly continue in his cautious rotation. Angered at the idea that someone had been in the room without their knowledge, Dean had little caution or hesitancy as he checked behind the couch, under the beds, in the cabinets, in the bathroom, along the beams on the ceiling and anywhere else a man could've hidden.

Finally, after several minutes of fruitless searching, both brothers lowered their guns. Sam found himself shaking from the cold and the remains of adrenaline coursing through his body.

Dean noticed the tremors passing through his brother's body. "Dude. It's 40 degrees in here and you're walking around barefoot in shorts and a t-shirt."

Sam rubbed down his arms as he ignored his brother's comments. "I don't understand where he went."

Dean casually looked around the room one more time before he sat on his bed. "What'd he look like?"

Sam gave his brother a description of the intruder and Dean shook his head, "That definitely wasn't the motel owner then. You sure he was real?"

Sam uncocked his gun as he gave his brother an insulted look, "I didn't imagine him Dean."

Dean shrugged, "I'm just saying. You said he magically appeared with the lightning and then he disappeared with the lightning. Maybe it was a shadow or something."

Sam sighed and sat on the arm of the couch facing his brother, "Shadows don't have stubble or wear khakis." Dean didn't respond and Sam continued, "He must still be here…somewhere. Either that or, however he got in, he got out the same way."

Dean looked down, thinking, and then quickly looked back up, "You think he was a ghost…or something related to the worm?"

Sam traced the metal carvings in his gun as he considered Dean's question. That explanation would make the most sense in that it explained how the man appeared and disappeared without Sam's knowledge. However, _who_ the man was, _what_ he actually was, what he wanted, and how he was related to the Lambton worm was still unknown. Sam closed his eyes and was net with intruder's predatory sneer that had been burned into his mind by the flash of light that had lit the cabin.

Opening his eyes, Sam shook off the effigy and answered his brother's question. "I guess he could've been. It would explain how he got in and out of the cabin without either of us seeing him." Sam paused as he stood up from the arm of the couch and walked towards his bed. He continued his thoughts as he climbed back into the warmth of the bed. "But was he related to the worm or was he just a ghost that's just haunting the cabin?"

Dean looked around and then opened their weapon bag. He spoke as he looked through the bag, "Don't know." He looked up at Sam, "And to be honest, I don't really care. Either way he's going down."

Sam rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the headboard. Once again lightning flashed through the cabin and Sam held his breath as he waited for the ghost to reappear. He let the breath out again when nothing happened. The thunder rolled and a shotgun was handed to him. Sam looked up at his brother.

Dean nodded at Sam's revolver, "Keep that too just in case, but if it is a ghost…" he held up the shotgun, "rocksalt."

Sam nodded as his heart quickened again. Was Dean leaving? Not that he couldn't handle himself, but it would be a lot easier to handle the situation if it were the two of them against the ghost…or whatever it was. Sam looked up at his brother, trying not to sound frightened, "Dean, you going back to the car?"

Dean looked at Sam as though he was absurd, "What? And miss all the action? Hell no."

Sam relaxed and gave his brother a small smile of appreciation. Dean grinned back and then took his place on his own bed.

Dean pulled off his wet sneakers and began, for the second time that night, changing his clothes. The trip from the car back to the cabin had gotten him soaked for the second, or possibly third time…and he had been so comfortable in his car too. As he changed, Dean realized that his bag with his clothes were still in the car. "Hey longshanks, you got a pair of sweats I could borrow?"

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother, "Longshanks?"

Dean shrugged, "Seemed fitting given your freakishly long legs."

Sam shook his head and began digging through his bag. Finally he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and threw them at his brother. "Well, here you go _short_shanks."

Dean caught them with one hand and glared. Sam grimed at him, "Try not to step on the bottom of the pants when you walk."

Dean glared harder and then stepped back, "You know I can always go back to sleep in the car. I don't need this kind of abuse."

Sam shrugged and sat back down on his bed, "I never asked you to stay."

Dean spoke as he changed into Sam's clothes, "Please. That's why you called me to tell me the smell was gone…which it's not by the way."

Sam exhaled in frustration, "I called you to see if you made it to the car without getting hit by lightning. You came back all on your own man."

Dean shrugged the t-shirt over his head, "Yeah well, I wasn't about to let you hog all the ghost fighting fun." He smiled at Sam, "You know how I love a good ghost fight."

Sam laughed, "Yes I do."

Having gotten changed, Dean turned to look at the red embers in the fireplace. "Dude. No wonder it's so cold in here. You let the fire go out."

Sam shrugged and laid down under the covers. "I was going to sleep."

"And you thought it'd be nice to freeze to death in your sleep?" Dean made his way to throw another log on the maggot-gut crusted fire.

By the time Dean returned to his bed, Sam was asleep. Dean readied his shotgun and then climbed into his own bed. Once again Dean made a visual sweep of the cabin searching all the shadows for the intruder. Just as before, the intruder was nowhere to be found.

Dean looked over at his brother and laid flat on his back. Given the turn of events, he was glad that he had returned to the cabin. Sam may have the general spidey-senses, but Dean was pretty sure he must have some sort of superpowers as well. So far in his life, his little brother in danger alarm had never let him down. And Dean was grateful that _his_ psychic abilities were well in-tuned.

Dean shook himself out of his fantasy- ok, so maybe he didn't have any real superpowers, but he did have an innate ability to tell when something was up with Sam. Hence why Sam's abrupt hangup had been enough to get Dean to leave his comfortable and warm position in the car and throw on his wet cold shoes and step out into the cold, hard rain.

Dean's thoughts moved back to the intruder. Who was he? What did he want? How long had he been in the shadows? Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around the cabin again…still no silent staring man. He laid back down.

A wind blew through the cabin sending the sulfur smell Dean's way, and distracting him from his thoughts. The nausea came back with a vengeance and once again Dean remembered the feeling of the slimy creature stretching out his throat and building up the slime behind his teeth. Dean wondered if any of the creature's slime was still on his tongue. All at once the taste of rotten eggs and vomit re-entered his mouth and Dean jumped out of bed for the bathroom.

Dean couldn't help but stare at the brown toilet water as he heaved the acid out of his stomach. He couldn't believe it was the water. No…he _could_ believe it was the water. He _couldn't_ believe that he hadn't thought of that before. What had he been thinking drinking the water?

Dean shook his head and flushed the toilet. He sat back against the bathtub. In the end though, he was partially glad that it had been him and not Sam to puke up the Lambton worm. If the girl had been right, if it had just been disgusting and not dangerous, then by all means, Sam could have/should have had to do it. But considering that it _had _been dangerous and almost killed him, Dean was glad Sam didn't do it. He'd much rather live through it himself than watch it happen to Sam.

What bothered Dean the most was the fact that Sam was right…they had gained nothing out of this. All that vomiting and choking and…nothing. All they had was some slimy skin in a bucket. Dean rubbed his hands over his face. Sam had been right all along. They should have done more research before trying to create the worm. They had relied on the personal account of a twenty year old girl that had fled the town after coughing up a worm of her own. The brothers had overheard her retelling the experience to some relatives in another town not too far from Denver. When the boys took interest, she had happily related the experience to them and they took off for the diner to do what they did best…kill the supernaturally evil. Except that so far, the supernaturally evil seemed to have the upper hand.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by the presence of two bare feet and legs appearing in front of him. "Dean? You okay man?"

Dean didn't answer, but leaned forward, squinting at his brother's leg. "What the hell did you walk into?"

Sam shook his head in confusion, "Huh?"

Dean pointed to several cuts and bruises on Sam's leg. Sam looked down, "Oh. I think I did that hitting myself with the poker…when I was trying to get the maggots off. You okay Dean?"

Dean sighed, grumbled, and stood up. Worried Sam was annoying. How many times did he need to say that he was okay? "I'm fine Sam. The smell was just getting to me."

Sam sniffed the air, "You still smell it?"

Dean shook his head. "It comes and goes."

Sam looked at him guilty. "Dean, I'm sorry about what I said…about it smelling like green eggs."

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed his way passed his brother and out of the bathroom. "Why are you…dude, it's like I've taught you nothing." Not waiting for a response, Dean got back into his bed.

Sam just raised his eyebrows and followed his brother's example.

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_So I guess this chapter wasn't all that exciting, but the next one'll be more fun!_


	6. Blueberry Pie

_You're back? I'm so glad! Thanks to all of you for continuing to read and review this story!_

_To my anonymous reviewers:  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie:** Nother chap? Here ya go!__  
**Double Vision:** I hadn't thought of that! That would've been good! Glad ya'll are up for the mystery!  
**Sci Fi Girl:** Glad you found it! Welcome to the party!  
**Spuffyshipper:** That sucks! I never had a migraine, but I've seen people during them and that just bites. Hope you've been feeling better._

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**Chapter 6: Blueberry Pie**

The next morning, the brothers made their way back out to the car. The ground was muddy and a mixture of pine needles and dirt stuck to their shoes. They walked through thick fog, dodging the residual globs of water that fell from the trees. Crickets chirped along with several morning birds. Sam stopped in his tracks as a thought occurred to him. "Dean…"

Dean stopped as well, turning to face his brother. He was feeling considerably better after having slept. His throat was sore and his jaw still ached, but the nausea and lingering sensation of slime had long passed.

Sam continued his thought, "You think we should try to collect some of the water? You know, for drinking or washing?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't think it's the same water source. We'll find out today for sure, but the places are too far apart for them to be using the same well."

Sam went to argue, but Dean cut him off, "It's too late now anyway. The rain's stopped." Then he turned and continued walking to the car.

Once at the car, Sam waited while Dean cleaned off his shoes before getting into the car. Then he waited for Dean to unlock the passenger door. When nothing happened, he looked down to find his brother staring up at him through the passenger window. "Dean, what are you doing? Open the door."

Dean just raised his eyebrows and stared. Sam grew annoyed, "Come on man. Open the door."

Dean crossed his arms and stared harder. Not knowing what Dean's problem was, Sam stared back. Finally Dean spoke, "I didn't see you clean your shoes."

Sam rolled his eyes, "You're kidding."

Dean stared.

Sam looked down at his shoes. There were pine needles and mud stuck on them, but they were _shoes_. Besides, where was he supposed to clean them? The rev on the Impala's engine interrupted Sam's thoughts. He tried the door, but it was still locked. Sam glared through the window, "Dean…"

Dean looked back at him, pulled the gearshift into reverse and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Sam gave an annoyed sigh. It was too cold out to be doing this. "What the hell am I supposed to clean them on?"

"You're not entering this car unless you clean off your shoes. You're not getting mud and God knows what else on her floor mats."

Sam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He could be as stubborn as his brother.

Dean shook his head. Sam was going to play the stubborn game? Stupid kid didn't have a chance. Dean looked behind him and backed the car out of the lot and onto the road. Then he threw the gear into drive and began driving towards the town.

Sam just stood staring, gritting his teeth, while his brother began driving for the town. Dean was SUCH an ASS.

Sam watched the car drive away…and then stop about 60 feet (18 m) down the road. The car waited, as did Sam. Finally, after the minute long standoff, Sam grumbled, kicked the dirt in front of him, and began jogging towards the car. Once there, he wiped his feet on the road until his shoes were mud and pine free. With a smug grin, Dean unlocked the passenger door.

Sam threw himself down in the seat and slammed the door shut. Dean shot him a look in response to the slam and then threw the car back in gear and drove off for the town.

It would be a fifteen minute drive…more than enough time for Sam to plot his revenge.

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As expected, fifteen minutes later, the brothers arrived in the small, one block long, town. Looking for answers, or at the very least, more information, they parked on the road in front of 'Molly's Diner'. Once again, the town appeared deserted. The fog was still thick, covering the area in a misty blanket. After a brief look around, the brothers made their way to the diner's door. A quick pull and they realized that the diner was closed- and locked.

Dean turned to his brother, "Where the hell is everybody?"

Sam attempted to peer through the fog. All the stores appeared closed and deserted. The wind howled, sending a chill up Sam's spine. It was cold, damp, and eerie. He answered his brother with confusion, "It looks like everything's closed."

Dean walked over to the diner's window and cupped his face to the glass. It was dark inside and the chairs laid upside down on the tables. One barstool was down as though someone had recently been sitting there, but whoever that may have been was now long gone. There was no evidence of life in the diner. "The place is dead, man…" Dean paused and looked at Sam, "…hopefully not literally."

Sam moved up next to his brother and looked inside the diner's window in an attempt to confirm Dean's assessment. Almost immediately, Sam cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed up harder against the glass. "Dean, there's someone sitting at the counter."

Dean turned back to the window and mimicked Sam's actions. He scanned the counter, but saw no one. "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"

Sam pointed at the downed barstool, "Right there." Dean looked in the window where his brother was pointing and then turned back to Sam with a 'you're crazy' look on his face.

Sam pointed again at the downed barstool, getting annoyed with his brother, "Dean. Right there. There's a man sitting at the counter eating pie."

Dean looked in again and upon seeing nothing for the fourth time, he turned back to Sam. "Uh…there's nobody in there Sammy."

Sam scowled and huffed, crossing his arms. "Why are you doing this?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion, "Why are _you_?"

Sam grew concerned and confused. Dean didn't look like he was kidding, which meant either he was blind, utterly unobservant, or Sam was crazy. Sam looked back through the window to make sure of what he was seeing. Sure enough, the overweight, balding man with a bad combover sat on the barstool, hunched over the counter shoveling in a piece of pie. It may have been dark in the diner, but Sam could see the man clearly. He had on tan pants that rode up his legs when he sat, white socks, tennis shoes, and a thin tan jacket. Sam couldn't help but think that given the day's temperature, the man should have been wearing a heavier jacket.

"Is this about the car? Seriously Sam. Is this some kind of warped revenge, 'cause we really don't have time for this shit. Especially with that dude you saw last night running around."

Sam turned back to an annoyed looking Dean. "Dean, I'm not kidding." Sam stepped back looking frightened, "You really don't see anyone in there…"

Dean looked at his brother's face and then back through the window. With a face full of concern, he looked back to Sam, "You really do?"

The brothers stared at each other with mirroring looks of concern, neither knowing what to make of the situation. Finally, Dean took a breath and spoke. "Is it the same guy?"

Sam shook his head and Dean nodded. "Ok. What's he look like?"

Sam shook his head again, "Dean…what the hell's going on?" He looked at his brother with fear in his eyes, "You think I'm crazy?"

Dean took in his brother's face, "Yeah…" then he grinned, "…but that's nothing new."

Sam sighed, too shaken to be annoyed with Dean sarcasm. "Dean…"

Dean interrupted him, "Look Sam, I don't know what's going on here…but if you're telling me that you see something in that room, then I'll believe there's something in that room."

Sam shook his head, "Why can't you see him though?" He looked at Dean with a sudden thought, "You think the man in the cabin last night…you think you wouldn't have seen him either?"

Dean shrugged, "Don't know. But there's been lots of times when you've seen or heard things that I haven't…goes along with the whole shining thing you've got going on. I mean, you said you heard me when I died; no one else did."

Sam winced at the memory and Dean continued, "And it's not just you Sammy. I saw that reaper when you didn't." Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Don't worry about why you can see it and I can't. It doesn't matter why. It doesn't change that whatever it is, it's there and we have to deal with it."

Sam took a breath and nodded; thank God for Dean's pep talks.

Seeing his brother calm Dean gave his Sam's shoulder a hit and nodded, "Good. Now what's the guy look like?"

Sam looked back through the window. The man's face was right up against the glass. Sam yelled and jumped back into the porch railing.

Startled and breathing heavily, Sam stared at the face against the glass. The overweight man stared at him through the glass, an unnatural smile seemingly sewed into his face. The smile came up so high on his face that Sam was almost positive he could see the man's cheekbones through the gap in the smile. The arch of the smile was severely distorted, causing the man's smile to mimic a 'U'.

The man was breathing heavily, his breath fogging up the glass. His combover was greasy and thin and bits of blueberry pie covered his chin and shirt. Sam fought against the urge to shut his eyes and hide himself from the terrifying figure.

Dean moved next to him, "What is it?"

Sam shook his head, "He's right against the glass." Still looking for hope that he was not alone in what he was witnessing, Sam asked his brother, "His breath's fogging up the glass…do you see _that_?"

Dean shook his head. Sam closed his eyes in defeat.

"Sam? Come on man, what's he look like?"

Sam opened his eyes and looked back at the man…he was gone. Stunned, Sam looked around, concerned the man had made it outside of the diner. But as far as Sam could see in the fog, he hadn't.

Dean noticed Sam's frantic movements, "What now?"

Sam answered his brother absently as he searched the area, "He disappeared."

Dean threw his hands in the air and looked through the diner window. "Well that's great…not that it matters to me anyway since I can't see the thing."

Cautiously, Sam moved next to his brother to look inside the diner. He his heart was still beating rapidly from the last time he had looked through the diner's window. However, this time, it seemed the man was nowhere to be found. Sam scanned the room several times to be sure before he stepped back and spoke to his brother, "He's not there anymore. He's gone."

Dean took a breath and ran his hand through his hair. "Alright, well…we can't do anything about him now…'specially since we don't know what the HELL is going on…" He walked off the diner's porch and back to the car. Sam followed suit.

Once at the car, Dean continued his thought, "I say we just keep looking for people…" He gave his brother a look, "…that we can both see…and see if we can dig up some more stuff on whatever the hell we're dealing with."

Still disturbed by the fact that he was seeing grotesque people that Dean couldn't see, Sam said nothing, allowing his brother to take the lead. Dean looked around in the fog trying to determine the best way to find life. Once again faced with a town of closed doors, Dean gave an alternative suggestion, "I guess we should go down some of these side streets and start knocking on people's doors."

Not acknowledging his brother, Sam walked out into the street to get a better view of the town. Suddenly, Sam smiled and pointed, "Or we could try there."

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_Did you like it? Hate it? Review and lemme know!_


	7. The Townspeople

_Hi! Welcome back for chapter 7! It seems that I may have thrown people off too much in the last chapter. So- just to let you know, when I write fanfiction, I generally don't like to mess with the mytharc. There are alternative explanations for things. This is not an AU story._

_Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Each one makes me smile so much! For those I can't reply to:  
**Scifigirl**- Glad you enjoy the creepiness! Thanks for reviewing!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**- I love Stephen King, but I never read Lawnmower Man…I think I have the book that it's in though…  
**Brokenwind**- AW! You're so sweet! I'm soo blushing right now!  
**Doublevision-** Hah! I never noticed the abundance of khaki pants when I wrote this! What's even worse is that I hate khakis…  
**Anon-** Well, other than the last few chapters, it's already written. But have a little faith…and see above. :0)_

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**Chapter 7: The Townspeople**

St. Andrews Episcopal Church was a small church, covered in white wooden siding. The gravel parking lot was located on the side of the church and from the parking lot, a narrow path led up to six wide steps and then a set of bright red double doors.

Currently, the brothers found themselves standing in front of the double doors, staring at the parking lot filled with local trucks and SUVs. Through the doors, the brothers could hear talking and yelling. They had obviously found the missing townspeople.

Without waiting any longer, Dean pulled open the doors and both brothers stepped inside. Upon their entrance, the packed church immediately became quiet, all eyes on the newcomers. Dean swallowed nervously and smiled at the people. He was about to speak, making up a story about being an agent from the Center for Disease Control. However, before he could open his mouth, the man in the front of the church beckoned the brothers forward. "You boys the visitors that ate at Molly's last night?"

Dean surveyed the scene as he and Sam walked towards the front of the church. The waitresses from last night (presumably Molly and her daughter) were standing towards the side of the altar, facing the crowd. Molly held a tissue in her hands, obviously crying. Her daughter appeared angry, although she sobbed as well. The church contained about 40 people. Dean surveyed their faces as he passed. While some of the crowd appeared angry, the majority of the townspeople looked frightened. Finally, the brothers reached the front of the altar.

Dean answered the man who had asked the question, "We ate at the diner last night."

The man frowned and nodded. He motioned the boys to face the townspeople. Dean couldn't help but feel as though they had been drafted into participating in a trial. He turned his attention back to the leader as the man spoke, "How'd you boys feel last night?"

Dean looked over at the two waitresses and realized _who _it was that was on trial. He didn't know what had transpired before he had entered the church, but clearly these women were being blamed for the Lambton worms. Feeling a defensiveness for the women (after all, Sam and Dean had voluntarily ate the tainted food…or rather, water), Dean lied to the townspeople, "We felt fine. The food was great. We'll be recommending the place to all our friends in Denver."

Dean watched the waitresses visibly relax even as Sam spoke, "I ate the food; I was fine. My brother drank the _water _and he got sick."

"Sam…" Dean spoke is warning, but it was too late, the townspeople had already heard Sam's words.

Almost immediately a wave of discussion washed through the crowd.

Dean glared angrily at his brother and Sam explained his actions, "They had to know Dean. Otherwise it could happen to more people."

The town leader looked shocked at Sam's confession. He grabbed Sam's shoulder, turning Sam towards him, "The water? Are you sure?"

Sam nodded and once again addressed the crowd. "The only thing my brother had in the diner was a glass of water. He was sick about an hour later. I ate the meatloaf and I was fine."

The man interrupted, "And you didn't drink the water?"

Sam shook his head and the man turned to the waitresses, "Molly, have you or Charlotte drank the water?"

Both women shook their heads as Molly spoke through her tears, "We have the stream out back. Bobby always said the water tasted better straight out the stream. We just got used to doin' it that way. Even after…"

The man shook his head and sympathy as a woman shouted out from the pews, "But that don't make sense that it's the water if'n Bobby ne'er drank it."

All eyes turned back to Molly, waiting for some sort of explanation that she clearly didn't have. Sam couldn't help but think she looked like a deer in headlights. Her daughter, however, had a very different reaction to the question. While she had appeared angry before, now she was clearly distraught. Sam could barely make out her words above the hysterical crying and gasping breaths. "It's my fault! I didn't know…mama…I did it. I'm sorry. Mama…"

Molly reached over and hugged her daughter as the townspeople grew silent. The interrogating man, walked over to the crying women and stood in front of them. He rubbed Charlotte's back and spoke gently. "What happened Charlotte?"

Charlotte took a breath and pulled away from her mother's embrace. Tears constantly overflowed from her eyes, tracking down her face. She answered the man with hitched breath, "I didn't know it was the water. That night daddy asked me ta git him a drink." She turned back to her mother, "It was late an' I didn't feel like goin' outside so I jest got it from downstairs, through the faucet…I didn't know." Charlotte looked her mother in the eyes, "Mama, I killed daddy."

Molly hugged her daughter and the man joined in the hug from behind. People in nearby pews began standing and making their way over to the crying women, offering their support.

Dean put his hands up, displaying none of the tenderness that the situation called for, "Whoa, whoa. What does she mean _killed_?"

He received no answer as the townspeople ignored him instead choosing to focus on their anguished neighbors.

One woman shouted out from the crowd, "This don't change nothin'. They still broke the community law. They were given an order by you, Tom, that they couldn't serve no more people in that diner an' they went an' broke that order last night."

The crowd once again became quiet and the leader, presumably Tom, walked forward to address the woman's complaint, "Janey, that's not a help. Now they know they broke the order. An' like we discussed we'll be finin' them $500."

A man from the crowd interrupted, "That doesn't even make sense. We all know they don't have that kind of money."

Before anyone could respond, Molly stepped out form the crowd and addressed the town, "We'll find a way to pay it. Tom's right, we knew we were breakin' the order when we served them last night. Bobby had some family down in Salt Lake City, I'm sure they could wire us some of the money." Then Molly turned to Dean, "How are you feelin' now?"

Dean shrugged, a bit disturbed by the 'killed dad' talk. "Fine I guess. What's goin' on? Is something else supposed to happen?"

Sam shot his brother a look, reminding Dean to be more sensitive towards the waitress' feelings, but Dean didn't care. Whatever was going on it obviously affected him and he wanted to know about it.

Tom sighed and the townspeople returned to their seats. A melancholic aura settled over the group. Molly and her daughter had brought their crying down to sobs and avoided eye contact with the brothers. Finally Tom answered Dean's question, "It's not that somethin' definite'll happen. Over the past month we've had 'bout ten people who've got sick from the diner an' six of 'em were just sick that one night and then they were fine after that…the other four, they got real sick." The man put his head down, "They didn't make it."

"What?!" Sam's shout startled the whole group, causing Tom and many others to jump.

Dean ignored his brother, "You said six were fine?"

The man nodded, "Five of 'em are sittin' out there." Dean looked out at the rows of townspeople and saw five people lift their hands and wave at him. Tom continued, "The other one left right after Benji, her boyfriend, died."

Dean nodded, 'the other one' had clearly been the girl that he had run into in the other town…the girl who had set them onto this place. Although, she hadn't seemed all that broken up about her boyfriend when she was talking to Dean. In fact, she hadn't mentioned at all that _anyone_ had died…

"Does the person get sick immediately, or…what are the symptoms?" Dean looked at his brother as Sam spoke. Sam sounded distressed. Dean laughed at that observation…Sam sounded distressed- who could blame him?

Tom appeared perplexed by Sam's question and quickly looked into the pews for help. He called over to a man sitting in the fourth row, "Doc, could you, uh…"

The doctor stood and nodded, "I am fairly familiar with its course…you want me to examine him?"

Tom looked over at Dean before looking back at the doctor and then back to Dean, "That'd probably be best, considering…if it's alright with you…"

Dean looked at Sam to gather his opinion, but was instead met with Sam's concerned face. Dean sighed and then nodded to the doctor. One thing was certain, they needed more information in order to defeat whatever was causing the Lambton worms and the doc looked like a man that would have information.

At seeing Dean's nod, the doctor led Dean to a back room in the church and Sam followed in suit. The doctor was a well-built man who appeared to be in his mid thirties. He had blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a charming smile. Once in the back room, the doctor had Dean sit on a low table. Dean wondered what this room was used for normally. As if sensing Dean's thoughts, the doctor spoke. "This room's usually used for prayer groups, bible study, things like that." He smiled at the brothers, "Today it'll be an examination room. I'm sure God won't mind." The brother's gave each other a look…they were always amazed at the way small towns multi-tasked.

A woman entered the room and handed two black doctor's bags to the doctor, "Here, I got your stuff from the truck."

The doctor nodded, "Thank you Sarah," and the woman left.

The doctor pulled an odd looking stethoscope out of his bag and began to examine Dean. While Dean was 'taking a deep breath,' Sam questioned the doctor. "Four people died after they vomited the…whatever it is? How long after were they sick? What were the symptoms?"

The doctor frowned and answered while listening to Dean's heart. "I wish I had all the answers for you. Up until today we had all just thought it was somethin' in the food." He took off his stethoscope and began feeling around Dean's neck, "None of the animal's have been sick, so we didn't consider the water."

Dean grimaced when the doctor touched a particularly sore spot on his neck. "That hurt?"

Sam's face grew more concerned and Dean shrunk under his brother's worry- it was embarrassing. "Not bad."

The doctor smiled and nodded, "How big was the…uh…organism? The one you vomited…"

Dean scrunched his face thinking and Sam answered, "It was big. He couldn't breathe during it. He almost passed out."

Dean gave his brother a glare, "Sam…"

Sam ignored him and continued, "It was solid too. The girl we met in the other town described it as being more liquid."

The doctor raised his brows, "The girl you met in the other town?" The doctor stepped back, a suspicious look on his face, "So, wait. Somebody told you about the diner and the food poisoning and you purposely made a trip out to eat there?"

Sam froze realizing what he had just said. Dean shut his eyes and slapped his own forehead- Sam needed to shut up. Silence filled the room as both brothers desperately tried to think of a way to cover their tracks. After a minute, the doctor just closed his eyes and shook his head. "That was stupid. That was extremely stupid. We don't know what this organism is and we certainly have no cure for the illness it causes." He looked at Dean, "You might have just gotten yourself killed. Was it worth it? I don't even understand what you could have possibly been trying to accomplish."

The doctor shook his head again and made his way back to the bag. He took out a thermometer and put it in Dean's mouth.

Regaining his ability to speak, Sam repeated his unanswered question about the illness, "What are the symptoms?"

The doctor looked over to Sam's worried face and sighed. "It's about a three day incubation from the time the organism is brought up. The symptoms were different depending on the person, but commonly there was a period of time when the family described the patient as 'not acting like themselves,' being more irritable or jumpy. Then there were periods of lightheadedness, dizzy spells, fainting…and then a fever broke out. The fevers were bad- real high. Antibiotics were ineffective as were fever reducers. It wasn't long after the fever…"

Sam felt his heartbeat speed up as the doctor went through his list of symptoms. Dean had definitely been more irritable and not acting entirely like himself. Sam could feel himself growing panicked. He turned back to the doctor, "Is there anything we could do to stop it from getting worse?"

The doctor shrugged, "Well, first, he may not have it. Based on my own lab work, I think the illness is the result of a poison that's slowly released into the blood. I assume that the poison is secreted from the skin of the organism. The people who became sick had been infected by larger, more solid organisms and they hadn't been able to expel all the skin. The skin that was left in their body must have secreted a slime that was effectively a poison."

Dean spoke around the thermometer, "None of that shit is still in me. Trust me."

Sam shook his head, clearly upset, "Dean, you said yourself that it was slimy…and we know it was larger and more solid than the others…and you've definitely been acting more irritable…"

Dean raised his eyebrows and interrupted his brother, "Excuse me?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Come on man. Right after it happened…you weren't acting anything like yourself. You even went to sleep in the car."

Dean grew annoyed, "Of course I wasn't acting like myself. You puke up a worm coated in slime and see how pleasant you are afterwards. And there's nothing wrong with sleeping in the car. The cabin reeked man."

The doctor interrupted by removing the thermometer from Dean's mouth. "Your temperature's normal."

He turned to Sam, "I wish I had a cure, but at this point I don't. If he does have the illness, it may be possible to run the poison out of his system. He should drink lots of fluids. Cola and milk cause the stomach to produce enzymes that slow the absorption in the intestines. Don owns the General Store, I'll have him open up so you can get what you need."

Sam nodded, filled with concern for his brother. So far, based on what little knowledge the doctor had about the worms, it sounded as though the Lambton worm poison _was_ in Dean and if that were the case…the situation wasn't looking good.

Dean was less concerned with his possible impending doom. It didn't look like there was much they would be able to do to prevent it; if it was going to happen, it was going to happen. In the meantime, they had a hunt to finish. Dean addressed the doctor, "Hey doc, the well for the diner…any other places share the well?"

The doctor shook his head, "No. All the well's 'round here are private. One well per lot."

Dean took in the information, "And the water sources? Do the wells share water sources?"

The doctor nodded, "In some cases, but so far as I know, Molly's well doesn't feed into any of the other drinking wells." The doctor looked thoughtful and then spoke again. "Although…you know it's interesting…"

Sam looked confused, "What is?"

The doctor explained, "Molly's got a barn out back where they breed the animals and their water comes from her well. But I was just over there last week examining Molly's new lambs and not one of the animals had been sick."

Dean held up his hands, "Wait…they called the doctor to examine the lambs?"

The doctor shook his head, "The nearest doctor is over 80 miles away, so usually they'll call me in or try to handle whatever the problem is themselves. But of course for the animals they call me."

The brothers looked confused and the doctor explained more, "I'm a vet."

Dean looked scandalized, "What?!"

Despite the seriousness of Dean's potential illness, Sam couldn't help it- he burst out laughing.

Dean glared at Sam and hopped off the table. "You're a _vet_? Where the hell do you get off pretending to people that you're a real doctor?"

The doctor took a step back, clearly intimidated and surprised by Dean's reaction, "I'm sorry. I though you knew."

Dean walked towards the door, "You thought I knew? How the hell would I know?! We've been in this town less than 24 hours and the man out there introduced you as the _doctor_!"

The doctor nodded to the door, "You mean Tom…he's the mayor, and the sheriff."

Dean nodded with a sarcastic smile, "Right. Makes the laws _and_ enforces them. Fitting for a town where the doctor is a vet."

Dean stormed out of the back room, through the staring mass of people, and out of the church. Sam ran to catch up with him.

Still snickering, Sam spoke to his annoyed brother, "Calm down man."

Dean reached the Impala and turned, "Calm down? Dude, the man was a VET. Don't tell me to calm down."

Sam laughed again, "That explains why the stethoscope looked so strange…hey Dean, which animal's ass do you think that thermometer was in before it was in your mouth?"

Dean froze and paled. He hadn't thought of that…as if enough disgusting things hadn't been in his mouth recently...suddenly the nausea from the previous night returned. With another glare towards his brother, Dean opened the driver's door. "Sammy…I'm only going to say this once. Shut the hell up and get in." Then Dean jumped into his car and slammed the door.

Sam's smile left as he tried to tease out Dean's attitude. Was it typical of Dean, or was Dean being more irritable than normal? Given the highly unusual situation, it was extremely difficult for Sam to tell. Once again frightened by the prospect of losing his brother, Sam followed Dean's instructions. With his mouth shut, he got in the car.

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_Think, think, think...combine all the clues as you go along...and remember: I LOVE a good plot twist!_

_Review...please?_


	8. The Well

_Okay…chapter 8- Lots of hunt related info in this chapter, as well as more clues…_

_As always, huge thanks go out toeveryone who is still reading and especially those who review. For those I can't reply to :  
**Swenglish**- I'm glad you're still likin' it! Don't worry- Sam will have his turn…trust me.  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**- That's it…keep thinking…maybe this chapter'll help you along…  
**Spuffyshipper**- You must be in the same geographic area as me, since you described the same weather that I'm having. I'm in NYC. Hopefully the weather will make up its mind.  
**Doublevision-** I'm glad you liked that part. And not everything will be a plot twist, some things just are what they are. :0)  
**Lux-** Yep- poor Sam has his work cut out for him…Dean's irritable most of the time anyway, who can tell if he's sick?_

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**Chapter 8: The Well**

Inside the car, Dean turned on the ignition. "Dean stop. Wait a second. We need to get the milk or cola from the general store."

Dean shook his head and looked behind him to back out. "I'm not following the advice of a _vet_. I say we just go find Molly's well and see what's what."

Overwhelmed with concern for his brother and annoyed by Dean's lack of concern for himself, Sam lost his patience and grabbed the shift, throwing it back into park. "Stop being an ass Dean. You heard with the doc said, we need to get the stuff from the store."

Dean didn't respond but stared wide-eyed at the gear shift. Finally, Dean slowly turned towards his brother; the rage on his face was unmistakable. He spoke with a calm voice, overlying his fury, "Do you have any idea what you just did to the transmission? My foot was on the accelerator and you threw the car into park. Do you have any idea what that does to the car, Sam?"

Still overwhelmed with his brother's situation- and not at all impressed by Dean's care for the car rather than himself, Sam got out of the car and slammed the door. He began walking back towards the church. Behind him, he heard Dean turn off the car and stomp out after him. By the time Sam arrived back at the church's path, Dean had reached him and grabbing a shoulder, spun him around.

"That's the second time you slammed the door today. Go apologize to the car."

Sam looked at his brother incredulously. If he hadn't been so annoyed with Dean's callous attitude, he would have found that statement funny. "I'm going to ignore that because I know it's the poison talking…"

Dean's face grew red as he cut his brother off, "There is no poison Sam! You just damaged her transmission and slammed the door. I don't need poison to be pissed!"

Sam shook his head, "Dean, you're more worried about the car than yourself."

Dean took a breath, forcing himself to calm in order to better respond to Sam's concern. "Sam, I'm not concerned about the poison. I feel fine. I'm not jumpy, I'm not fainting, I'm fine. If I seem irritable, it's because my brother's a pain in the ass and is trying to wreck my car."

Sam felt himself marginally relax as he accepted Dean's explanation. Dean continued, "Besides, if I am being poisoned, there's nothing we can do about it anyway. Our best bet right now is to hit the well and figure out what the hell is going on there."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Fine Dean. But we're picking up some cola and you're drinking it."

Recognizing the opportunity for compromise, Dean agreed, "Fine, but only if you apologize to the car."

Sam stared at his brother and Dean raised his eyebrows, "Come on Sammy, you want me to drink the cola, you have to apologize."

Sam once again felt his anger growing, but he forced himself to push it down. "Dean, it's a car. I'm not talking to it."

Dean shrugged and made his way back to the Impala, "Fine…then I'm not drinking the cola."

Sam's anger grew and he kicked the gravel in front of him. "You are SUCH an ASS!"

Dean turned and shrugged again. He raised his eyebrows, a confident look on his face. Staring at Sam, he waited for the inevitable…

Sam squinted at his brother, kicked the gravel again, and then mumbled something. Dean put a hand to his ear, "What was that Sammy? We couldn't hear you."

Sam took a deep breath and clenched his fists at his sides. He glared at Dean with considerable animosity, "I said…'I'm sorry I slammed the door and damaged the transmission.'"

Dean raised his brows and pointed towards the car, "Apologize to her, not me."

Sam glared harder and gave his brother a warning, "Dean…"

Smiling, Dean let his brother off the hook, "Ok Sammy. We accept your apology. Go get the cola. I'll wait here." And with that, Dean got back into the car.

Still filled with anger, Sam made his way back into the church. As he entered the church, he reflected on how much of an ass his brother had been being lately. Whether Dean was slowly being poisoned or not, not everything could be blamed on the poison. Dean had been annoying Sam from before they ever even entered the town. It started with the Green Eggs and Ham, then onto Dean trying to trick Sam into puking a Lambton worm, then forcing Sam to wipe his feet before entering the car, and then finally forcing him to apologize to the car. Dean's ass-like behavior was clearly unrelated to poison, which meant that it was just Dean.

Sam shook his head and willed himself to stop feeling annoyed with his brother. For one thing, he was in a church and it just felt wrong to be pissed while standing in the house of God. And for another, Dean may not have a lot of time left, and Sam didn't want to spend it being pissed at his brother. Accepting his resolution to forgive and forget, Sam made his way over to the vet to arrange the owner to open the General Store.

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Twenty minutes later, Sam opened the back passenger door of the Impala and threw in two cases of bottled water and four one-liter bottles of cola syrup.

Dean watched his brother unload the drinks into the car and then get into the passenger seat. Truth be told, he felt a little guilty about the way he had annoyed Sam. He knew that Sam had only been acting out of concern for him, but Sam's worry made Dean self-conscious…and uncomfortable. Briefly Dean wondered if he should say something to his brother, something to let Sam know that he felt guilty for bothering him. However, Dean couldn't think of anyway to do that, at least not any way that wasn't utterly humiliating. Feeling Sam's eyes upon him, Dean turned towards his brother.

Sam nodded towards the ignition, "You gonna start the car?"

Giving up on smoothing things out with Sam, Dean nodded and started the car. He didn't drive far, just far enough outside of town and in the trees that the Impala would be unlikely to be noticed.

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In preparation for the hunt, Sam gathered two flame-throwers, a taser, two handguns, and a rock-salt filled shotgun from the trunk. Since they didn't know what they would find in the well, they would be prepared for everything. While Sam did that, Dean chugged the too sweet cola syrup.

Sam slammed down the trunk as Dean stuck out his tongue in a gag and made a face. "This stuff is horrible. What? They didn't have actual Coke?"

Sam rolled his eyes and handed his brother the guns. "The cola syrup is what coats the stomach. This is its concentrated form. It's better for you."

Dean nodded and put the drink away. "Great."

Fully armed, the brothers made their way to Molly's diner. Sam spoke as they walked, "I asked the owner of the General Store more about the well system here. He said most of the people share the confined aquifier…"

Dean's confused look interrupted Sam's speech and Sam rolled his eyes as he explained, "The aquifier is the area with the underground water. A confined aquifier is located deep in the ground, usually below the second strata of rock. Molly's well draws water from an I_un_/Iconfined aquifier, which means it's _above_ the second strata of rock."

Dean nodded as they walked, "So it's a different water source than the rest of the town."

Sam agreed, "Yeah. Apparently, there are other wells that draw from the unconfined aquifiers, but the unconfined aquifiers are a lot smaller than the confined ones, so they're private."

Dean clarified again, "Meaning Molly's is the only place that uses that water source."

"Right. But it gets even better. According to Don, the store owner, _all_ the lots that have shallow wells are like that because they were the first lots to be settled."

Dean looked at his brother for further information and Sam explained, "This town was settled in the 1840s during a gold rush. Molly's diner was originally the local bar. It was the first building built around here. Whoever owned the place built a well in the back. You know, one of the old-fashion types with the handcrank. In the 1950s, Molly's husband, Bob and his family bought the place, converted the well, and gave the place indoor plumbing."

Dean shifted the shotgun as he listened, "So Molly's well's been there for over 150 years."

Sam nodded and Dean concluded his thoughts, "More than enough time for some freaky shit to take place."

"Yeah, but why now?"

Dean shrugged and looked up, they had made it back to the diner. He looked over at his brother, "How long do you think they plan on staying in that church? You think we should come back at night?"

Sam shook his head, "When I was just in there, they were in the middle of a heated discussion. It didn't sound like they were planning on leaving any time soon."

Dean nodded, "Ok…so do we know where this well is?"

Sam scrunched his face trying to remember what he had been told, "I'm not sure what they did with the _new_ system, but as far as I understood, the _old_ well is still there and it leads to the same water source."

Dean accepted the information and the brothers made their way to the back of Molly's diner. Keeping an eye out for the old-fashioned well, the brothers walked passed the barn and into the woods. Barely into the woods, about 70 feet (21 m) from the back of the diner, they found the well.

The stone well was now covered in ivy and other small plants, to the point where the white stones making up the well were almost completely obscured. The opening of the well was sealed with red bricks and cement.

Dean turned to his brother, "We found it. Now what smart guy?"

Sam tensed at his brother's sarcastic comment. The comment was unnecessary, it had been Dean's idea to investigate the well. "This was your idea Dean…"

Dean gave his brother a look. "Chill Sammy. You're too damn sensitive."

Sam redirected the original question back to his brother, "Alright, so how're we getting in?"

Dean stepped back and looked at the well as though he was sizing it up. "Yeah, I'm working on that…"

Dean walked around the well, crouching down, bending over it, picking at the mortar, to examine the well's weaknesses. Finally, coming to a conclusion, he stood up and turned to his brother. "We might be able to chisel some of these stones out from the base of the well. The mortar's cracked and weak in some places." He wiped his hands on his shirt, "Otherwise, we're going to have to use explosives."

Sam started at that suggestion, "Explosives? Dean, we can't do that, the whole town will hear."

Dean nodded, "Well then, I guess we'll just have to make the chiseling work."

Sam nodded and looked at his watch. "We're not going to have enough time to chisel out the stones before the town meeting is over."

Dean agreed, "It's gonna take hours anyway. I say we go get the stuff from the car, get started, do as much as we can before the clan meeting gets out. Then we can pick up where we left off tomorrow."

Sam nodded in agreement.

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Twenty minutes later, the brothers were back at the well, a hammer and chisel in each of their hands. They worked side by side, chiseling out two adjacent stones from the wall of the well. The process was slow going as the stones and mortar were thicker than Dean had originally suspected.

An hour into the chiseling process, the two stones still sat in the wall although more than half their mortar had been carved away. Dean turned to his brother, "I'm gonna try to hammer the chisel through the rest of the mortar on this side, get ready in case I chip off part of the stone."

Sam nodded and stepped back, shielding his eyes from the possible stone fragments. With a loud clank of the hammer, the chisel was thrusted though the mortar and wedged between the two stones. Through the well wall, the brothers heard part of the inner stone break off and after 5 seconds, make a splash in the bottom of the well.

The brothers listened to the splash and Dean spoke, "Ok, we're through…"

Sam raised his eyebrows, "No offense, but I don't think you're going to fit through that hole."

Dean smiled off his brother's sarcasm, "All it takes is one crack to bring a foundation tumbling down."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Thank you Kwai Chang Caine."

Dean smiled more and braced himself to extricate the chisel. Imitating a Chinese accent, he spoke to his brother, "You have much to learn Grasshopper."

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes once again. Then he watched as Dean strained to remove the wedged chisel. His brother grunted under the effort and wrapped both hands around the steel tool. With a good grip and a great heave, Sam watched as his brother pulled the chisel free and sent himself falling backwards.

Upon the removal of the chisel, black flies began buzzing out through the new crack where the chisel once laid. The flies crawled out three by three squeezing their way out of the crack. Their buzzing was loud and their flight quick. Within seconds, hundreds of flies had flown out of the crack and were now circling the brothers. The brother's swung their arms about as the flies repeatedly attacked; trying to land on them and crawl into their ears and nose.

Dean looked at Sam with a face of disgust. Then he shouted over the buzzing, "What's this remind you of?"

Sam pulled a fly out of his right ear by its wings. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma."

Dean nodded and picked up the chisel. With one fluid motion, he had the chisel wedge back into the crack between the stones. The outpouring of flies now stopped, Dean turned back to Sam, "I hated that job."

Sam agreed. However, if nothing else, they had learned quickly from that job the best way to kill demonic insects…and if these flies were not demonic, well, then the anti-demon method would kill them too.

Picking up the flame-thrower, Sam aimed at the largest swarm of the insects. He pushed down on the handle, releasing a large spray of chemically induced flame. Instantly the flies caught fire and one by one flew off in erratic flight patterns into their fiery demise. As the bugs flew in all different directions, Sam found himself feeling glad that it had rained the night before. Due to the torrential downpour, and the dampness that still lingered in the air, the trees, grass, ground, and everything else in the area was soaked through. So when one of the tiny fireballs hit, the fly exploded and the flames died.

As he ignited the large mass of insects, Sam watched Dean use his own flame-thrower to eliminate the flies that had strayed from the group. With all the flying insects now destroyed, the brothers frantically began searching each other's clothing and hair for more elusive flies. Picking one fly from behind Dean's ear and two from Sam's hair, it wasn't long before all the flies were destroyed.

Breathing hard from the adrenaline, Sam lowered his flame-thrower and turned to his brother, "You see anymore?"

Dean shook his head, "No, you?"

Sam stuck his fingers in his ears just to be sure and then shook his head in response to Dean's question. "Ok. So…"

Dean interrupted him, "Did you see their eyes?"

Sam put his flame-thrower down and then crouched down, checking to make sure the chisel was still in place, "No, why?"

Dean began packing their tools and weapons. "They were red."

Sam hammered the chisel into the crack one more time to be sure it wouldn't move. "Like the maggots…"

Dean nodded and stood up, "I'm guessing those suckers are what the maggots turn into."

Sam stood up as well and looked at Dean with trepidation. "Dean…what the hell is going on?"

Dean shrugged, "Dunno. But I know one thing…we're not pulling that chisel out again till we have a hell of a lot more information."

Sam agreed. Picking up half of the packed weapons and tools Sam turned to make his way back to the car. He walked about two steps before he decided to ask his brother a question. He turned back towards the well, "Hey Dean?"

Dean looked up, "Yeah?"

Sam didn't notice his brother's response. He was too busy staring at the young boy sitting on the well.

Dean stared at his brother's shocked face and then followed his brother's line of vision over the well and into the trees. Originally he thought that perhaps they had missed one of the flies, but if that were the case, Sam should have just taken care of it, not stared at it like he had seen a ghost…now that was a possibility…"Is it one of the invisible people again?"

Sam spoke to Dean, not taking his eyes off the staring boy, "That depends. Can you see him?"

Dean looked down his brother's line of sight a second time just to be sure, and then shook his head, "No."

Sam exhaled, growing a disturbed look, "Then yeah, it's another invisible person…a boy actually."

The boy was dressed in black dress pants and a white button down shirt. His hair was jet black, and neatly combed. His eyes were dulled, but their color (green) remained, and freckles adorned his face. Slowly, the boy's lips turned upwards into a smile, although unlike the blueberry man, this smile fit the boy's face. From his crouched position on the well, the boy stared at Sam while gradually leaning forward as though he were going to jump towards Sam. Instinctively, Sam took a step backwards.

Unable to see what Sam was seeing, Dean questioned his brother, "Where is he? What's he doing?"

Sam stared at the boy, readying himself for a possible attack. "He's crouched on the top of the well. Dean, he's just sitting there…smiling at me."

Dean looked at the top of the well, seeing nothing, "Ok…well, smiling is good right?"

Sam slowly shook his head, "I'm not really getting a _good _kind of vibe."

"Why don't you trying talking to him?"

The absurdity of Dean's comment caused Sam to break his eye-contact with the boy and look at his brother, "What?!"

Almost immediately, Sam realized that he was no longer looking at the boy and turned his head back to the well. The boy was gone. Frantically, Sam spun in a circle, searching the ground and the air for the invisible child.

Dean sighed and threw his arms up in the air, "He's gone isn't he?"

Sam made one more lap in his circle before nodding at his brother. Dean appeared annoyed, "Well that's great. These are some freakin' skittish ghosts you've got here Sam."

Sam scowled at his brother's attitude, "I wouldn't exactly describe them as skittish, man. Every time they look at me, I keep feeling like they're about to attack…they start off expressionless and then an evil grin later they're coming towards me."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Have you ever actually seen any of them move?"

Sam thought for a moment, "Well…no…"

Dean picked up his tools and weapons and then began walking towards the car. "That's good Sam, the unmoving invisible people are coming towards you…" Dean shook his head and changed the subject, "Hey Sam."

Sam adjusted his own gear and followed his brother, a dejected look on his face, "Yeah…"

"When you get into the car this time, I expect you to treat her with respect…"

Sam glared at his brother's back. Dean was really beginning to get on his nerves.

* * *

_Whew, that was a long one. Let me know if you liked it, hated, or anything else...please?_


	9. Orpheus Wendel

_BIG, HUGE clues in this chapter, which will either lead you to an answer, or lots more questions. I apologize if it's the latter. And once again, I really promise that there will be answers and Sam angst…and more Dean angst ahead. REALLY- not lying- REALLY…In fact, there'll be minor Sam angst in the next chapter…_

_And over 200 reviews!!! Yay! I've never ever ever had that many reviews! Not even for the WHOLE story! I'm so excited! HUGS TO EVERYONE! Thank you all SO much! I'm SO happy:  
**Swenglish**: Lol, you're too funny…I'm glad the chapter made you laugh!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**: Well, you asked for an update, so here it is. And don't bounce so much! You could fall off the chair!  
**Creulty:** I totally agree- poor Sam had no chance! Glad you liked the argument!  
**Doublevision:** Lol…um, pseudo yes to one of the theories…I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out which!  
**Lux-** Glad you liked that part…poor Sam…I think that'd be the negative side to being Dean's lil' brother. :0)  
**Brokenwind: **Aw! You're so sweet! I'm glad you like my stories! I like your reviews!  
__**Scifigirl: **Those are definitely the questions to ask. Hopefully this chapter'll answer one of 'em!_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Orpheus Wendel**

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the Impala with his legs crossed, ankle on his knee. He picked at the bottom of his pants as Dean drove back to the cabin. The sun was setting, making the already stunning view that much more striking. The fog that had been present all morning had continued and although the setting sun was covered in clouds, somehow its pink rays penetrated the water vapor giving the mountain atmosphere a rosy hue.

Next to him in the car, Dean sat humming along Pearl Jam as he thumbed a beat on the steering wheel. Sam watched his brother nod his head in the beat of the music and mouth the words as he watched the road. Watching Dean in his oblivious haze sent a bolt of anger through Sam's body. Quickly he turned his head back to the scenery before Dean saw and the anger spread to his brother.

The crack about the car, Dean's driving away because he didn't clean his feet, Dean making him apologize to the car…it was degrading. Even the Green Eggs and Ham, why the hell should he be having to pay Dean back for that?

A tiny voice in his head reminded him that Dean might very possibly be dying and an insurgence of guilt and sadness crept into Sam's body. He couldn't lose his brother…not like this…not to a worm…and especially not to a creature that they _willingly_ caused to attack. Sam shook his head. Dean was possibly dying for no good reason AND he was pissing Sam off before he went.

What had Sam the most ticked was the fact that Dean seemed completely unaware that he was being an ass. Despite that Sam had _told_ him this multiple times over the passed few days. How many times did Sam need to say it? Dean was even making cracks about the invisible people that only he seemed to see. Couldn't Dean tell that the apparitions were upsetting him? Why did he have to be such an ass about it?

As Sam sat, stewing in his own anger, the part of him that was constantly fearful of Dean's untimely departure once again made its presence known, encouraging Sam to calm down and let go of his anger. Dean had always been annoying on some level, he had always played jokes at Sam's expense, why was _this _time bothering him so much? Sam thought about it…not only was he usually much better able to brush his brother's stupidity off, but many times he even found some of his brother's jokes funny. Sam shook his head. Dean was possibly _dying_…why the hell was he being so irritable? That wasn't like him at all…especially given Dean's possible illness…

And suddenly Sam froze. _He_ was being irritable…_he_ wasn't acting like himself…Sam thought about this- fear stopping his breathing. Was it possible that _he_ was poisoned and _not _Dean, or maybe in addition to Dean? Sam considered this theory. He was DEFINITELY more irritable than normal, but how could he have been poisoned? There was no way, not unless the poison was somehow contagious.

Sam shook off his paranoia. There were other reasons for his irritability. For one thing, he hadn't gotten much sleep. For another, he hadn't eaten all day. For a third, he was being stalked by invisible people that only he could see. And to top it all off, despite his anger, he really was worried about Dean. Those things would be more than enough to make a person irritable.

Nodding to himself and considerably calmer, Sam turned back to his brother, no longer annoyed by Dean's presence. As he watched his brother tap the steering wheel and sing along with his cassette (he really needed to get his brother an ipod), Sam found himself fully engrossed in worry for his brother. The anger had vanished and Sam desperately hoped that Dean was not slowly being poisoned.

Just as he was about to mentally check his brother's behavior to see if Dean had been acting Dean-like, his brother looked over at him. "Dude. What the hell are you staring at me for?"

Sam let his concern shine through his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, "I feel fine Sam." Dean looked over at Sam again briefly before turning into Danny's Bunkhouse's lot. "Seriously man, there's nothing wrong with me. Now don't go and piss me off by asking me how I feel every three seconds."

Sam sighed and stepped out of the car. His lack of anger with Dean had been short lived. Once again, Dean was getting on his nerves.

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Once they were back in the cabin, Sam laid stomach down on his bed and pulled out his laptop. Dean looked over at him, "Dude, we're in the middle of the mountains, in a place with no electricity."

Sam answered his brother, eyes affixed to the laptop. "It's ok, I've got another two batteries in the car."

Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion. That wasn't where he was going with the uselessness of a laptop in the mountains. "Uh huh. Right. Uh hey Sam?"

Sam looked up and Dean spoke to him in a patronizing manner, "You plan on getting the internet in the middle of a mountain range? Somehow I don't see Danny's Bunkhouse's brochure advertising a wireless hookup."

Dean continued his mockery impression of the Bunkhouse brochure, not even noticing that Sam had vacated his position on the bed. "Come to Danny's Bunkhouse. Amenities: no pool, no air-conditioning, no iron, no ice machine, no lights, no electricity, brown water, but we do have a wireless connection."

Dean doubled over laughing at his own joke. His laughter was short lived however, when Sam, from seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed his brother by the collar and slammed him up against the cabin wall. Dean's laughter died quickly, replaced by confusion as he stared into Sam's enraged eyes.

"It's non-stop! Can't you just take a break from mocking me for five minutes! Five lousy minutes Dean! That's all I'm asking!" Sam's heavy breath filled Dean's nostrils as Dean tried to sort out what exactly had just happened.

Unable to make sense of anything other than the pain in his back where it had hit the wall, Dean raised his hands up in surrender, staring at his brother with a shocked look.

Suddenly, Dean's look seemed to pass over to Sam whose eyes grew incredibly large. All at once Sam stepped back and released Dean's collar. Still looking shocked, Sam walked backwards until he ran into one of the kitchen chairs and ungracefully sat down. He never lost his shocked eye contact with Dean.

A piercing silence filled the cabin. The silence was deafening, masking the echoes of Sam's explosion that rang through their heads. When the silence was broken, it was Dean that spoke, "Sam…are _you_ feeling ok, man? Cause I gotta say, that wasn't typical Sam-like behavior."

Sam gave a heartless laugh and lowered his eyes. When he looked back up, Dean could see that they were filled with tears, "I'm sorry Dean. I don't know what's wrong with me, man. Did I hurt you?"

Dean stretched out the bruised muscles in his back, ordering them to cease their complaints. "Nah. Dude, you know how many times I've hit a wall? Hell, that was probably good for me, helps build up a tolerance for the next time."

Sam smiled, feeling even more guilty about what he had just done. "Dean, really, I'm…"

Dean shook his head and waved him off. Then he cleared his throat. "Hey…uh…have I …" Sam watched his brother roll his eyes at himself and clear his throat. The he shook his head and took another breath before trying again, "Have I really been teasing you that much?"

Sam shook his head. "No…well, yeah. I guess." Sam held his breath with his head down and waited for his brother's inevitable comment regarding how Sam needed to toughen up…but it never came.

When the silence stretched out, Sam looked back up to see Dean staring at him, looking somewhat introspective. Finally Dean spoke, "So, is this normal for us? Or is one of us…being affected by evil worm slime?"

Sam shrugged and sat back in his chair, "Well, clearly I'm more irritable than normal, but I don't see how I could be poisoned. You were the one who got intimate with the Lambton worm."

Dean grimaced at the memory and nodded. Then he walked over to sit across the table from his brother. He looked Sam in the eyes, "Tell me the truth, am I acting different to you?"

Sam sighed and ran through his memories. Once again, he was reminded that Dean had been annoying him from _before _the worm incident. Sam thought over the last 24 hours. It was true that Dean had acted differently directly after he had vomited the worm, but throughout today…considering all that had happened, he honestly couldn't say that Dean had been more irritable than normal. It was entirely within Dean's character to get annoyed by being examined by a vet and for him to be overprotective of his car. Slowly Sam shook his head, "I don't think you've been more irritable…but, I'm not really sure Dean."

Dean nodded. "Ok." Then he stood up and stretched, "Well, since we don't have a freakin' clue what's going on, you better get going on that research."

Sam raised his eyebrows, noticing Dean's newfound support of his laptop research. "And what are you gonna do?"

Dean smiled, "I'm going to take our new bottled water and make dinner."

Sam stared confused, "Dean, water isn't dinner."

Dean rolled his eyes, "And you talk about me…ramen noodles Sammy. I have a whole case in the car…unless you have a better suggestion…"

Sam shook his head. Then he stood up and made his way back over to the bed, resuming his position. He was still incredibly shaken by his own behavior. It was rare for him to physically attack Dean and Sam _hated_ himself for doing it. The look that had been on Dean's face when Sam pushed him up against the wall was enough to almost make Sam sick. Filled with regret and remorse, Sam opened the search engine on his laptop. There was cell service in the area and Sam could only hope that there was a wireless port as well.

As luck would have it, it turned out that there _was_ an wireless port in the area. Sam had no idea why or how, just as he had no idea why or how his cell phone worked in the area, but the fact was that he had internet access, and he wasn't about to question it.

It didn't take long for Sam to find the history of 'Molly's Diner' on the internet…not only did he find the history of the diner, but he had found the possible _supernatural_ history of the diner. Dean had just put the water on to boil when Sam called him over. "Hey Dean, listen to this."

Dean walked over and sat on the arm of the couch facing his brother. From his prone position on his bed, Sam read aloud the 'historical background of Molly's Diner'.

"In the early 19th century, new train routes and western expeditions brought people, and towns to the Colorado Rockies. One town, once known as Wendel, CO has a particularly fascinating history." Sam looked up at his brother to be sure Dean was listening before he continued.

"In the 1830s, Wendel, CO was a no-name town inhabited by a small handful of farmers that had stopped to claim land on their way into 'the west'. Then, in 1838, one of the settlers, a man named Tom Ashcroft struck gold. Within one year of his strike, the town attracted hundreds of new inhabitants. Among these inhabitants was a man named Orpheus Wendel."

Dean interrupted his brother, "Orpheus…why do I know that name?"

Sam explained, "Greek mythology. It was the name of the lyrist who was able to enchant anyone and anything by playing his lyre for them. His wife died and overcome by grief, he sought audience with Hades to petition for his wife to return to life. It was said that his song of mourning brought feeling to Hades and caused him to shed a lone tear. In fact, all of the underworld was said to be brought to tears by Orpheus' lament. Hades gave him the life of his wife under the condition that Orpheus lead her out of the underworld and not look behind him until they were out. He had almost made it out, when he forgot and accidentally looked behind him to make sure that she was following. In that instant, she was lost again to the underworld. Eventually he was brutally murdered and sent into the underworld himself where he now remains with his wife and looks upon her as much as he pleases."

Dean nodded, "Nice, man. So what was he doing in Colorado?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Namesake Dean, not the actual Greek god."

Dean smirked and nodded to Sam to continue his reading of the webpage. Sam picked up where he had left off, "Orpheus Wendel arrived in what would soon be Wendel, CO with nothing. Within a year, he was elected mayor of the town and built the first building in the town, a bar and entertainment house called Wendel's. A short time later, under Wendel's management, eight more buildings sprung up throughout Main St."

Dean raised his eyebrows in admiration, "So the man arrived with no money and within the year he was running the town and owned everything in it."

Sam nodded, "Looks that way…but there's more. It says here that Wendel was loved by the people of the town, so much so, that he took three wives at the same time."

Dean raised his brows again and then, making his way through the moonlight lit cabin, put the noodles in the now boiling water. Sam continued the tale, "According to this, his wives were all upperclass women, highly intelligent, and extremely beautiful. They were rich, came from old money, and ran the gambit in age from 16 to 25. Elizabeth was his first wife, and he had two children with her, Elizabeth and Orpheus. Shannon, was his second, and they had three boys, Michael, Joseph, and Patrick. And then 16 year old Anna was the third woman he married and they also had three children, Amos, Clara, and Robert."

Dean interrupted, "Sounds like the guy had it good."

Sam agreed, "A little too good. It says here that people who passed through the town believed that Wendel had bewitched the townspeople…that anyone he spoke with fell under his spell."

Dean smirked again and turned off the stove, "Just like his namesake."

Sam let out a breath and made his way over to the kitchen table carrying his laptop, "It was short lived. In the late 1840s, Typhoid fever swept through the town, killing almost all its inhabitants. The only survivors of the over 200 people in the town were seven of Wendel's children. Not only that, but until the children had grown, anyone who attempted to settle in the area died of a mysterious stomach ailment." Sam gave his brother a meaningful look.

Dean placed a bowl of soup in front of Sam and nodded. Wendel clearly had something to do with the Lambton worms. Sam continued the story, "According to Orpheus, Wendel's oldest son, when the town became ill, Wendel kept his family quarantined, away from the town. His wives refused to turn their backs on the town and went out to bring food to those who were ill. Soon after, all three of his wives became ill themselves. Wendel kept the children away, but remained by his wives' sides. Each of his wives was said to have died in his arms. Throughout all this, Wendel and his children remained healthy. Then one day, months after the last of the townspeople had died, Wendel took Orpheus and Michael, his two oldest sons and began burning all the houses and bodies, to rid the town of the Typhoid. A week later, Orpheus and his two sons came down with the Typhoid. Michael died first, in his father's arms, and minutes after losing his son, Orpheus senior let go of his own life. Orpheus junior cried to his father, begging him not to leave, saying that he didn't want to die alone. Wendel promised his son that he and his siblings would never be alone nor would they quote, die before their time."

Sam looked back to his brother as he finished. Dean sat with an unreadable look on his face. "So…Wendel knew something, did something that protected his children…"

Sam agreed and tasted the soup, "they were only protected after he died though. While he was alive he lost his wives and one of his sons."

Dean considered this as he ate his own soup. It seemed clear that Orpheus Wendel was involved with the Lambton worms, but how? And who were the people that Sam were seeing? Were they the people that had been killed by the worms? Were they the people who had died of Typhoid? Or were they something else entirely? Dean found himself growing frustrated as he ate the soup. They had a backstory now, but it really didn't give them that much more helpful information. They still knew nothing about the worms, the slime, the maggots, or the flies. And even if Wendel did have something to do with it, why all of a sudden were the worms being born?

Dean watched Sam eat his soup slowly. Sam seemed fine now. No more irritability or anger. No current invisible people…Dean scrutinized his brother. Was Sam sick or had Dean really been _that_ much of an ass that he pushed Sam to his breaking point? Sam hadn't thrown any punches, or really been all that violent. It was true that it wasn't exactly _typical_ of Sam to be physically aggressive, but pushing Dean against a wall wasn't _that_ out of character for a Sam that had been pushed to his limits.

Dean reflected on his own behavior. He really hadn't felt more irritable than normal lately. Driving away and forcing Sam to apologize to the car…those incidents hadn't _really_ had Dean's anger behind them. That was more for his amusement than anything else…excuses to annoy Sam. Maybe he _had_ been teasing Sam more than normal…

"Hey Dean?" Dean looked across the table to find Sam staring at him, a pensive look on his face. Dean knew that look. It was a look that elicited an automatic answer. It wouldn't matter what was on Sam's mind or what came out of his mouth. That Sam look meant 'I'm scared/I need to be reassured'. So no matter what the question was, Dean was ready with his answer: convey to Sam that you'll take care of it, he has nothing to worry about, it will all work out.

"Do you think…"

Dean waited for Sam to find his words before handing him the predetermined answer.

Sam tried again, "Do you think that this all has something to do with the demon?"

Dean pulled his head back in surprise, he hadn't been expecting that. "What makes you think that?"

Sam shrugged, looking fragile, "Just that…my visions…they always have something to do with the demon, you know? And I'm seeing things here that no one else sees…I just thought, maybe…maybe my irritability has nothing to do with the worms. Maybe the demon's doing it; trying to push me over the edge."

Dean stared at his brother skeptically, "Over the edge? You mean make you more irritable to drive you to commit a murder and therefore become evil?"

Sam looked into his soup and shrugged.

Dean shook his head, "You were that pissed at me before? You wanted to kill me?"

Sam's head shot up, an appalled look on his face, "No! No…no. Not…no, Dean. No."

Dean nodded. He hadn't thought so. He'd seen Sam's mind manipulated murderous look once, in the asylum, and Sam certainly hadn't looked anything like that earlier today. Once again Dean looked at his brother's face, Sam seemed to be getting younger and more frightened by the second. It was time for the automated response.

"Don't worry about it Sam. I've been an ass lately, okay. I know it. You didn't get much sleep last night, I was getting on your nerves, you just got pissed. It's fine man, no harm done."

Sam shook his head, not reassured, "But what about the invisible people Dean?"

Dean sighed and gave his brother his most confident look, "That's the thing Sam, they're _invisible people_, not _visions_. They don't come with a headache, you're not passing out when you see them. Hell, you're talking to me while you're looking at them. You've never done that with a vision."

Sam looked up at his brother, allowing some hope to enter his face. Dean moved to finish his pep talk, "I don't know what's going on right now, but I do know it's got nothing to do with the demon." Dean grabbed his brother's wrist in a supportive gesture, "Don't worry about it man. This is just like any other case; we'll figure it out." Dean let go of Sam's arm and picked up the empty bowls, "And then we'll save the town and go on our merry way without anyone ever knowing all the heroic deeds we've accomplished." Dean shook his head and stared off into space, "You know, just once I'd like us to receive the credit…and money that we deserve."

Dean turned back to look at his brother, Sam was watching him with a relieved and amused grin. Older brother mission accomplished…one reassured and protected little brother.

Sam shook his head at his brother's antics and stood up, "You cooked; I'll do the dishes."

Dean smiled and shook his head, "Uh uh. No way dude."

Sam looked at him confused and Dean raised his brows in challenge, "You think I don't know what you're doing? You do the dishes and I get stuck with lighting the fire in maggot cemetery over there. No thanks. I'll do the dishes."

Sam rolled his eyes, he hadn't even been thinking that. "Fine, I'll set the fire." Laughing to himself and filled with an overwhelming appreciativeness for Dean, Sam made his way through the moonlight lit cabin and over to the fireplace. He placed two new logs atop the maggot crusted cinders before lighting a match and igniting the fire. Another night sleeping with fire, but this time it wasn't so scary.

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_So...are you still enjoying it? Review, let me know... and remember... minor Sam angst in the next chapter!_


	10. Close Encounters

_Once again, thank you all so much for the reviews! I know I haven't replied to everyone yet…I will get to that tonight- I promise. I just wanted to upload this before I went out.  
This chapter's fairly self-explanatory, so no need for a big a/n. It's a long chapter, but I hope you'll like it._

_To those I can't reply to:  
**Anon:** There will be more hurt Dean, but not here. Sorry…it's only fair that both boys get a turn…  
**Swenglish**: Aw! Thanks! As for what you're sensing…you'll find out soon enough!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**: I'm sure you've got it figured out…you'll know for sure in the next chapter.  
**Spuffyshipper-** Oh that's nice…poor Sam with you all wishing he's been poisoned. :0)  
**Brokenwind: **Lol…you're funny… "nobody's listening"…it'll be obvious soon…  
**Scifigirl: **So you're on the same page as the guys, huh? We'll you'll all get more answers soon._

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**Chapter 10: Close Encounters of the Invisible Kind  
**

The next day, Dean awoke to the smell of eggs cooking on the stove. Pushing himself up in his bed, he looked over to see Sam sliding eggs off a frying pan and onto a plate. As though sensing he was being stared at, Sam looked up and smiled at Dean. He lifted the plate, "Hey. I made us breakfast."

Dean rolled himself out of bed. "Where'd you get the eggs?"

Sam nodded to the door. "I walked over to the main bunkhouse and asked him if there was anywhere I could pick up some food. Turns out he's got a small farm out back. So I bought some eggs and some of the peppers and onions he's got growing…and voila! Omlettes!"

Dean raised his eyebrows in amusement and disbelief. It was way too early in the morning to be _that_ chipper- especially about omlettes. Briefly Dean considered asking Sam where the ham was, but it was also too early in the morning to get thrown into a wall.

Sam placed the food on the table as Dean groggily sat down in the chair. Rubbing his eyes from sleep, Dean picked at his food as Sam rattled on about something. Suddenly, Sam stood up and Dean sniffed a familiar smell. Excited at the scent, Dean picked his head up, "Is that coffee?"

Sam nodded and handed his brother a cup. Dean took a sip and reveled in the caffeine- now this was worth getting chipper about.

The brothers ate the rest of the meal in silence as they each considered what their plan should be for the day. After the meal, Sam cleared the dishes, "So…any idea where to go from here?"

Dean shrugged and made his way over to his bag, "I thought we'd go back to Molly's, ask her some questions, try to figure out why old Orpheus has decided to pick up on the Lambton worm killing spree now."

Sam nodded, the sudden insurgence in Lambton worm production had him concerned as well. Sam washed the dishes as Dean got dressed. It still worried him that his recent irritability might be somehow related to the demon, but he felt MUCH better about it than he had yesterday.

Sam walked over to the stove and picked up the frying pan to wash in the sink. Turning towards the sink, Sam dropped the pan on the floor. The man from the other night was standing directly in front of him. Startled by the man's sudden appearance, Sam backed himself away from the apparition…straight into the corner.

Dean's voice rang out from across the room, "You okay there Sammy?"

Sam watched the ghost stare at him, repeating to himself that these invisible people had yet to actually move. "It's the man from the other night."

Dean, now fully dressed, walked towards the kitchenette. "The peeping tom? Well, at least now we know for sure that he's one of your invisible stalkers."

Sam didn't take his eyes off the eerie figure. "Were we ever really doubting that?"

Dean shrugged, "Is it Orpheus?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so. His clothes are modern."

Dean stood next to his brother, "So…what? Worm victim then?"

…Or demonic mind-game, but Sam kept that thought to himself. Dean didn't want to hear it.

Dean nodded in the direction that Sam was staring, "Ask him what his deal is, man."

Sam resisted the urge to give his brother a look of disbelief. If he did that, the apparition would most likely disappear. Instead, he expressed his incredulity verbally. "What the hell am I supposed to say here Dean?"

Dean threw up his hands, "I don't know. You went to college; figure it out. But we need more information and you're staring at a piece of the puzzle. Just ask the dude."

Sam sighed and summoned his courage. Feeling more than a little embarrassed to be talking to the air (at least as far as Dean would be seeing), Sam cringed and spoke, "Hi. Uh…my name's Sam, this here's my brother Dean. Um…what's your name?"

And suddenly the sinister grin appeared on the man's face. Sam tried to step back, but was quickly reminded that he was already up against the wall.

"What's he doing?" Dean may not have been able to see the figure, but Sam could tell that Dean was aware enough to be on alert.

"He's smiling at me." Sam felt, more than saw, Dean roll his eyes.

"Come on Sammy. Don't tell me you're afraid of a little smile."

Sam scowled. "Don't tell me what I should be afraid of Dean. You're not the one staring at a creepy man that no one else can see."

Sam felt his brother move a step closer, so that their shoulders were touching. "Ask him his name again, man. Maybe he didn't hear you."

Once again Sam resisted giving his brother an incredulous look. "Or maybe he doesn't want to talk Dean."

Dean said nothing and Sam knew he was waiting for Sam to repeat the question. "Can you tell us your name?"

Dean's concerned face appeared above him. Above him? Sam turned his head, realizing that he was on the floor. When the hell had that happened? He hadn't been on the floor this whole time, had he? He hadn't imagined the attempted conversation with the invisible figure…

"Sam! Come on man. Say something. You're freakin' me out. Sam!" Dean's voice grew into his awareness. How long had Dean been talking? Had he lost consciousness? If so, for how long? Sam thought that perhaps it was time to voice some of his questions aloud.

He reached a hand out and Dean helped him sit up. "Dean? What the hell just happened?"

Dean leaned back in his crouched position looking considerably relieved. "You tell me dude. One minute you're asking Mr. Invisible for his name and the next thing I know you're on the floor staring up at me with this blank look on your face."

Sam shook his head as Dean helped him stand up. Briefly, he looked around the cabin. Mr. Invisible, as Dean had put it, was gone. "Did I go out?"

Dean shook his head; his hands still lingering on Sam's arm from when he helped him stand up. Sam appreciated the steadying support the hands offered.

Not having much information, Sam gave Dean his version of the story. "That was weird man. It was like I instantaneously went from standing and talking to the…whatever he is, to lying on the floor. I don't even remember hitting the ground."

Dean let go of his brother's arm, "Yeah, well, you hit the ground pretty fast. You'd think given your freakishly long legs, it'd take longer for your head to reach the floor."

Sam saw past his brother's humor. Dean was shaken…and Sam couldn't blame him. He wouldn't be okay with Dean hitting the floor either. Hell, he wasn't all that okay with _himself_ hitting the floor.

Sam did a body check and as far as he could tell, he had been left unscathed- from whatever it was that had happened. He knew he should've kept his mouth shut. Dean and his bright ideas…'just ask the dude' he had said…right. "Dean, officially…for the record…talking to sinister invisible stalkers is _not _a good idea."

Silence stretched for a moment before Dean spoke, without responding to his brother's comment. "Is he gone?"

Sam nodded, and then so did Dean.

Dean turned to his brother, "Alright, well, if you're done with your evil invisible phantom attack…can we go back to Molly's now?"

Sam scowled and followed his brother out the door. It wasn't like he asked for the attack. In fact, he tried to avoid it. It was _Dean_ that had insisted that he try to talk to the guy. "Yeah. So long as _that_ interrogation goes better that this last one."

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Dean drove to the diner in silence; focused solely on his thoughts. Sam had been temperamental lately and now he had just collapsed- for no apparent reason. Dean tried to make sense of the latest events. Given Sam's irritability and his recent meeting with the floor, Dean briefly considered that Sam might have been poisoned. He shook that thought off. It wasn't possible for Sam to have been poisoned- Dean had been the one with the worm slime down his throat. Unless Sam had also had a worm in him, but hadn't vomited it…

Dean pulled his eyes from the road and looked at his brother. Sam sat facing the passenger window, lost in his own thoughts, which were probably similar to Dean's. Dean studied his brother. Sam didn't appear sick. Nor did he appear to have a Lambton worm trapped in his stomach. Given the size of the one that had stretched its way out of Dean's mouth, Sam would have exploded by now if there was a Lambton worm in him.

Dean considered other possibilities for his brother's odd behavior. The irritability could be explained away. Sam had always gone through phases of petulance…and Sam had been giving him attitude since before the worms. So that was that.

The incident from this morning was harder to explain away. Why would Sam have just fell down? He hadn't lost consciousness really…just seemed to end up lying on the floor. Maybe he had slipped when trying to back away from the…whatever he saw…and Dean hadn't noticed. Dean shook his head- that was dumb…even for him.

Perhaps Sam's hallucinated ghost (or whatever) had done something to him. Now that was more probable. Dean nodded to himself, clearly these invisible people warranted further investigation to determine if they were actually dangerous…or even there. Not that he didn't believe Sam, but if the invisible people were ghosts or other spirits, Dean should have been able to see them too. But whatever they were, the EMF should pick up there readings. So from now on, Dean would be bringing an EMF with him, wherever he went.

Dean pushed down on the accelerator. He hated not knowing what was going on or more importantly- how to fix it. So far they had, Lambton worms, poison, an evil contaminated well, red-eyed maggots and flies, Orpheus Wendel, and Sam's invisible people. This case was frustrating as hell and quite frankly- it was beginning to tick Dean off.

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After the short drive, the brothers found themselves back on Main St. However, whereas the past two times that they had gone into the town, the streets were deserted, this time, everybody seemed to be on Main St. Dean parked the car on the street in front of the bank and the brothers walked back towards the diner.

The boys looked around with mild curiosity at the townspeople who greeted each other in the street. Dean wondered what the entire town was doing standing in the street. Suddenly, the town mayor/sheriff was standing in front of them, "Howdy boys! You're about ten minutes too late for mass, but we're all goin' over to Molly's for brunch if'n you wanna join us."

Dean gave the man an incredulous look, "You're all going to _Molly's_ for brunch?"

Sam added, "I thought you had decreed that she couldn't serve anyone anymore?"

Mayor Tom nodded, "I did, but then you boys figured out for us that it was the water, so I removed the restriction. Now she can serve food providin' she doesn't use the water from her well for anything. Includin' washin' and waterin' the animals."

Dean nodded, "So where's she getting the water from?"

The mayor pointed to the building next to Molly's, 'Little Pep's Ice Cream Shop'. "Pepi's lendin' her his water for the time bein'. There's enough water to go around. 'Sides, around here we don't keep water from those who need it. It's a town law."

Sam and Dean each gave the mayor/sheriff an odd look as he walked away. A town law prohibiting people from withholding water…Both brothers shook their heads; this was a strange town.

The brothers continued there way down the block until they were outside the overly packed Molly's Diner.

Sam turned to his brother, "So much for questioning Molly…We'd be lucky to even fit in the door. The place is packed."

Dean agreed, "Yeah. Yesterday she was forbidden to serve food, over the past month four people died because they ate there, and yet, the place is packed. I don't get it."

Sam shrugged, he didn't get it either. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed the bad comb-over, overweight, blueberry pie eating man standing inside the diner, looking out of the window. He elbowed his brother. "Dean."

Dean turned and Sam nodded towards the diner's window. "It's the guy from yesterday."

Dean raised his brows, "Mr. Invisible of the blueberry pie?"

Sam gave his brother a disbelieving look, "Mr. Invisible of the blueberry pie? What the hell is that man?"

Dean shrugged and made his way over to the diner's door, "We need a way to distinguish them Sammy. You know, since they won't tell you their names."

Sam watched surprised as Dean barreled his way past the people and into the diner. The people shouted and stumbled as Dean made his way through them and over to the window where Sam had nodded. A couple sat at the table next to the window and looked up, mouths filled with food as Dean came right up to them and pulled out an EMF meter. Sam's mouth fell open. What the hell was Dean doing?

Dean was standing practically in…Mr. Invisible of the blueberry pie (Sam rolled his eyes). Dean looked at him questioningly, wondering if he was in the right spot, and Sam nodded. Mr. Invisible didn't seem to notice Dean's presence, nor did he seem to notice Sam. Instead, the man was looking at something else out on the road. Sam followed the man's gaze to a large group of teenagers standing in the middle of the road.

"Hey!" Sam turned back to the diner as Dean pushed his way out. Breathing hard from the effort of parting the people, and sweating from the heat of all those people crammed into such a small space, Dean fanned his coat as he spoke, "No EMF. The lines were all flat."

Sam stepped back, surprised, "Are you sure?"

Dean stopped fanning and gave his brother a look, "No, I'm just guessing. What the hell do you think man? I know how to use an EMF meter."

Sam put his hands up in surrender, "I'm not saying you don't. I'm just surprised that there's no EMF that's all. What the hell's your problem, Dean?"

Dean shook his head and bit his tongue. The case was really frustrating him. If Sam's people were really there, they should have come up on the EMF. Unable to hold the question any longer, Dean turned to his brother, "Sam? You sure you're seeing people?"

Sam stood startled, "What?"

Dean nodded to the window, "These people…the ones that only you can see? You sure they're really there?"

Sam stared at his brother speechless. Dean didn't believe him? Sam felt the heat begin to prickle his face disturbingly bothered by his brother's question. If Dean didn't believe him, then what did he think was really going on?

After a moment of speechless staring, Sam found his voice, "So you think I'm lying or do you think I'm crazy?" Sam's eyes took on an angry glare, "Huh Dean? Which is it? Because if you don't believe me, then you've got to be thinking one of those two things. So which, lying or insane?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I'm just saying Sam. Anything supernatural would've come up on the EMF…"

Sam angrily interrupted his brother, "Well maybe they're not spirits or demons or evil. Maybe they're…trapped in another dimension or something."

Dean gave his brother an strong look of doubt, "Trapped in another dimension? Give me a break Sam. This isn't _Sliders_."

"All I'm saying is that just because the EMF isn't showing something that doesn't mean I'm making them up."

Dean raised his hands, "I didn't say you _were_ making them up."

Sam gave a heartless laugh, "No, you just said 'are you sure they're really there'."

Dean saw the hurt in his brother's eyes due to Dean's distrust. He didn't believe Sam was making it up, not on purpose anyway. It was just that the EMF meter had come up with nothing, and as he had said, if there was something supernatural there, there would also be EMF.

Before Dean could correct the situation with his brother, a loud screeching sound, followed by screaming, interrupted the brothers' argument. Both boys whirled around in the direction of the noise.

In the center of the street was a large mass of people, circling a red sports car. The brothers ran over in time to see Mayor Tom and the vet push their way through the crowd.

Looking over the crowd (being tall had its advantages) the brothers could see Charlotte, Molly's daughter lying face down on the ground a few feet behind the car. There were dirt tire marks across the top of her dress. A young man, the driver, stepped out of the car, clearly shaken. Several of the townspeople yelled in his direction, condemning him for driving so quickly, not looking, and probably killing Charlotte. Based on their condemnations, the brothers could tell that the driver was not a resident of the town.

Murmurs ran through the crowd, pitying poor Molly who now would have lost both her husband and only child. Suddenly a scream of "Charlotte!" parted the crowd and Molly, already in hysterical tears ran and slid down next to her daughter. She reached out a hand to touch Charlotte's head, but the vet grabbed her wrist stopping her. "She can't be moved."

A soft moan drew everyone's attention back to the fifteen year old lying in the street. Slowly, Charlotte turned her head and then began to push herself up. Once again, the vet tried to stop her, "Charlotte, you've been hit by a car. You need to stay still now hun."

Charlotte ignored him and pushed her self into a kneeling position. "I'm alright."

Molly shook her head, still sobbing, "Honey, do what the doc says."

Charlotte shook her head and stood up. Then she began brushing the dirt and gravel off her dress. She looked down at herself, clearly surprised, "I'm okay. Really. I feel fine."

The townspeople all stared in shock and the vet took Charlotte's arm. I've got an MRI machine at my office. You're coming with me and we're doing an MRI. You may feel okay now Charlotte, but there may be internal injuries."

Molly nodded and began walking towards a black truck. "We'll take my truck."

Charlotte followed her mother towards the truck, still protesting, this time with much more animation, "Mama I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt a little. See?" The girl began jumping up and down and spinning around. "It doesn't hurt at all. It's like nothing happened."

Another murmur swept through the crowd as the word 'miracle' was passed around freely. Charlotte got into the truck with her mother and the vet and Mayor Tom took custody of the young driver. From somewhere in the crowd, an announcement was made. "We don't know what just happened folks, but seems to me that whether we're prayin' for Charlotte's life or thankin' the good Lord for a miracle, we ought to make a second visit to His holy house today. The crowd murmured in agreement by way of several, 'Amen Reverend's, and then began walking over to the church.

As the crowd left, the brothers stood in their spots. From their positions, Dean studied the crime scene, while Sam looked around. Immediately, Sam's eyes were drawn to the diner's window. The invisible man remained in his position, staring at the red sports car in the street. Behind the man, several other figures stood, although from his distance, Sam couldn't ascertain who they were.

Sam wanted to ask Dean if he saw the other people, but he didn't. Dean would just think he was even more insane. Slowly, Sam walked towards the diner to get a better look at the people. As he walked closer, Sam could see several male figures, none of which he had seen before, standing next to the blueberry man. All the figures were staring in the same direction.

Sam noticed, as he drew nearer, that two of the men had on clothes, which appeared somewhat outdated. The man next to the blueberry man was wearing a brown suit with a thin cross tie, and a cowboy hat. The man appeared very distinguished and Sam couldn't help but stare at him. The other men in the group were mostly primarily dressed as cowboys, although there _was_ a man standing in he far back wearing a black tuxedo.

Sam could tell, based on the collection of figures, that none of these men would be visible to his brother. Suddenly, the man in the brown suit's eyes turned to Sam. With a gasp, Sam stopped walking and stood completely still.

The other men, kept their eyes on the road. Unlike his previous encounters with the invisible people, Sam felt no trepidation while staring into the distinguished man's eyes. There was no threat there…just some kind of understanding. Sam didn't know what the understanding was, but it wasn't dangerous.

Sam kept his eyes on the man, waiting for the evil grin to appear as it had with the other men. But as he stood and waited, the grin never came. Slowly Sam felt his vision focusing in on the man's face, until the distinguished man's eyes and expression took up all of Sam's vision. The eyes held in them acceptance, patience, and kindness. Sam stared; they were almost peaceful…

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Dean stared at the car trying to figure out what had happened. He had seen the tire prints on the back of the teenager's dress and knew that the car had ran over her chest. Given the rubber tire marks on the street, before and after the spot where Charlotte had laid, the car had to have been traveling way over the speed limit. Dean looked closer, with the amount of rubber left on the street, there shouldn't have been _any_ tire marks on Charlotte. Instead, Charlotte's dress and most of her skin should have been ripped apart by the car's tires. Dean shook his head; it didn't seem possible that Charlotte should have remained in tact…much less alive.

With all the people now in the church, Dean walked over towards the area where Charlotte had been found. He shook his head at the police work in the town. The sheriff had taken the man to his office and left the crime scene out in the open for anyone to tamper with. Of course, the sheriff probably trusted the townspeople not to tamper with the evidence, but still, it didn't seem like a good idea to just leave the scene.

Pushing aside his criticisms of the sheriff's shotty police work, Dean closely examined the accident area for blood. There was none. Dean checked the car's tires. The smell of burnt rubber was strong, but once again, there was no blood.

Standing up, Dean brushed his hands on his pants. What the hell had happened here? Had it really been a miracle? Dean turned to ask Sam his opinion; only Sam wasn't there.

Confused, Dean turned around. There, about 20 feet (6.1 meters) ahead of him, was Sam, lying face up on the ground. Without a second thought, Dean ran to his brother.

"Sam!" Sliding next to his brother, Dean began shaking Sam's shoulder. "Sam!"

Sam remained unresponsive, his head lolling around as Dean shook him. Not wanting to hurt Sam any further, Dean ceased his shaking and sat back. Clearly Sam was breathing, which was a relief, but what the hell had happened?

Dean ran a hand through his hair, overwhelmed by the situation. He had NO control over this hunt and it was getting worse. Now, not only did he understand NOTHING about what they were dealing with, but Sam was unconscious.

Dean felt his heart rate speed up. What the hell had happened to Sam? He was right there. How could something have happened to Sam right under his nose? Dean's hands turned into fists although he had nothing to aim them at. Sam had gone down earlier today and Dean had been standing _right next to_ him that time. Feelings of failure overwhelmed Dean. Keep Sammy safe. He had one job in life. Dean closed his eyes, resting a hand on his brother. There was no time for a reflection on his feelings…he had to help Sam.

"Sammy!" Dean resumed shaking his brother's shoulder.

"Sam! Come on man! Open your eyes Sam. Come on…"

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_Hah! I've ended with a cliffie! I so rarely do that...sorry. Review and let me know what you think!_


	11. Discoveries

_**WARNING: I am rating this chapter as M. This chapter contains graphic grossness and male nudity (non-sexual, but there none the less). If either makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this chapter. I will put a non-graphic summary of the events of this chapter up in the beginning of the next chapter so that you can continue to read the story. You know yourself well, so I am leaving it up to your own discretion as to whether you think you should read this. Please don't flame me because you made the wrong choice. If you thought chapter 3 was bad…this one is FAR worse. Make a good decision.**_

_Thanks once again for all the awesome reviews! You all make me SO happy. Thank you! To those I can't reply to:  
**Swenglish**: Uh! That wasn't nice…poor Sammy. I'm sure you'll enjoy this chapter then. :0)  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**: Lol…sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to make you crazy. I don't know if you'll consider this a plot twist…depends on how much you've worked out.  
**Sammygirl1963-** Thanks! We won't find out those answers just yet, but it'll happen soon!  
**Brokenwind: **Make a surprise ending? Huh? Like what? Well, we're nowhere near the end right now, but I think this chapter's a bit shocking._

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**Chapter 10: Discoveries**

"Sammy!" Sam felt his shoulder being shook and suddenly realized that it was dark. Dark? A feeling of dread ran through his body. This was the second time today now that he had faced off with one of the invisible people and ended up loosing touch with reality.

"Sam! Come on man! Open your eyes Sam. Come on…" Sam felt a finger brush over his eyelashes. With a realization that his eyes were closed, Sam slowly forced them open.

Dean's face loomed above him blurrily, a halo of light circled around his head. Turning his own head, Sam noticed that once again, he was on the floor. "I'm really beginning to hate those people."

Dean said nothing, but slowly rocked back onto his heals. Sam squinted and covered his eyes as the sun filled the spot that was recently held by Dean's head. Sam felt his brother's hand on his arm and with Dean's help, he carefully sat up.

The world spun for a moment and Sam sat, waiting for his brother to say something, but Dean remained quiet. Cautiously, Sam looked at the diner's window, to see if the invisible people were still there.

The distinguished man in the brown suit, the cowboys, and the man in the black tuxedo were now gone. However, the 'invisible man of the blueberry pie' remained. Quickly, Sam looked away before he could make eye contact.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up and found Dean staring at him with concern. Answering Dean's question before he asked it, Sam shook his head, "I don't know what happened man. One minute I was looking at…" Sam trailed off; he had almost forgotten that Dean no longer believed that the invisible people existed.

Dean picked up on his brother's hesitation and sighed. He had let his frustration get the better of him before, and unfortunately, he had taken it out on Sam. "You were looking at…"

Sam gave his brother a look and forced himself to stand up. Dean's hands remained outstretched, ready to catch Sam if he fell.

Once standing, Sam brushed the gravel off of his clothes and out of his hair. "What's the point Dean? You don't believe me anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Don't be such a drama queen Sam. You're worse than a chick."

Sam glared and then began to walk towards the car. Dean stared after him, considerably worried. Something was clearly wrong with Sam…now wasn't the time for his brother to stop talking to him.

Dean ran to catch up with his brother.

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A half hour later the boys were back in their cabin. The car ride back had been intensely quiet with both brothers lost in their own thoughts. Sam entered the cabin and headed straight for the bathroom, the only separate room in the cabin. He needed to be alone.

Once in the bathroom, Sam stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't look any different, not that he had really expected himself to, but if he had it might have given him a clue as to what was going on.

Why was he fainting? It had to have been related to the people as it had only happened when they were looking at him, but how were they causing it? And back to the real question, why was he the only person who could see them?

Since he was already in the bathroom, Sam began to relieve himself as his mind went over everything that had happened over the last few days. Suddenly, Sam thought he felt something brush against the back of his hand.

Sam looked down and felt something move against his hand a second time. Examining his body more closely, Sam noticed a small, oval shaped bump on one of his testicles. It hadn't been there before, at least not as far as Sam had noticed, and he was pretty sure that something like that he would have noticed.

Cautiously, Sam pushed on the bump with his finger to gauge its consistency… Upon his touch, the bump began to move, squirming under his skin.

Overcome with horror, Sam dropped his hands and fell back against the wall of the bathroom. Panic was overtaking him and he squeezed his eyes shut trying get his breathing under control.

Still hyperventilating with his eyes closed, Sam tried to convince himself that he had hallucinated the squirming bump. He had been seeing a lot of things that may or may not have been real lately and the bump was probably just one of them. It took a minute of focused breathing, but eventually, Sam was able to slow his panic attack.

Now feeling calmer, Sam cautiously opened one eye and then the other. Taking a deep breath to further increase his composure, Sam looked down at himself once again. Sure enough, much to his dismay, the bump was still there, lingering under the hair. So he hadn't hallucinated the bump, but maybe he had imagined the squirming…

With a great deal of trepidation, Sam took a shaking finger and once again pushed on the bump. Sure enough, the bump moved. Somewhat expecting it this time, Sam was able to not panic. He studied the bump's movements. The two inch (5 cm) long bump writhed in a rhythmical pattern, similar to a sine wave. Sam considered the shape and movement of the bump, and thought that it really looked a lot like a worm…or a maggot…oh my God.

Sam's eyes widened in shock. Quickly, he pulled back on his underwear and pulled up the right leg of his pants. He lifted his leg onto the sink and for the first time, he studied the cuts and bruises on the leg. He had felt some pain in his leg during the incident with the maggots, but he had assumed the pain was due to him hitting himself with the fireplace poker. Now, upon further inspection, Sam acknowledged the small maggot sized cuts in his leg, leading to thin bruised lines continuing up through his calf. Sam remembered the sensations of the maggots crawling up his leg that he had felt directly after the incident. At the time he had thought the sensations were figments of his imagination brought on by his disgust at the small creatures. But now he realized that it hadn't been his imagination. What he had felt _were_ the maggots crawling up his leg, but under his skin.

Sam lowered his leg and buttoned his pants. He had his answer. This explained why he had been irritable and fainting…he was being poisoned. The poison wasn't coming out of the Lambton worm, it was coming out of the maggots. Sam wondered if that had been the case with the other victims as well. The vet had said that the victims who had died had vomited larger, more solid worms. Maybe those worms had had more maggots in them…or maybe as with Dean, those worms were too large for the person to expel and ended up breaking and releasing the maggots. It was even possible for the maggots to have been released_ back_ into the person, coming out into their stomach as the worm came out of their mouth. That easily could have happened to Dean, if Sam hadn't popped a hole in the other end of the creature.

Sam took another calming breath. So he now knew what was going on. Now the only question was what to do about it. Obviously the maggot had to come out. Given the area in which the maggot was situated, Sam was hesitant about whipping out a knife and cutting the skin open. There was bound to be more pain in that area as compared to others and, more importantly, Sam had concerns about damaging the area. If his hand slipped or if he cut too deeply…

Briefly Sam considered his alternatives. Regardless of anything, the maggot _had _to come out. He could go to a doctor to have it done. Then at least it would be safer, but if he went to a doctor, he'd have to explain the maggot, and it would mean a stranger would be getting very personal with his body. In addition, unless he wanted to drive four hours to a larger town, it would be the _vet_ who would be completing the procedure. Sam laughed, the vet probably had a hell of a lot more experience cutting testicles open than any _doctor_. And then Sam stopped laughing; it really wasn't that funny…

Sam closed his eyes in dread. Either he had to do it, or the vet…with a sigh and a whine, Sam nodded to himself. _He_ would do it. He would just have to be _very_ careful. Content with the fact that he had made the decision, Sam opened his eyes. Now there was only one more thing to consider. How was he going to tell Dean?

Sam bit his thumbnail as he considered this next predicament. Dean would have to know about this, but did he really need to know _where_ the maggot was? Sam sighed; there was no way he'd be able to hide it from Dean. One of Dean's first questions would definitely be, 'where is it'. In fact, Dean would probably want to see it…until he found out where it actually was. Sam looked at the doorknob and rallied his courage. The longer he put this situation off, the longer he would be being poisoned AND the longer his fear would have to build.

Sucking in a breath, Sam opened the door.

Dean was seated on the couch, facing the fireplace. Apparently, he had started a fire while Sam had been in the bathroom. Dean looked over at his brother as Sam approached, "It's about time and dude…I didn't hear you flush."

Sam thought, no, he hadn't flushed; there had been other things on his mind. Sam shook out his hands; they were shaking. Dean noticed the movement, "What's wrong with you?"

Sam took a breath and reminded himself that he _had_ to tell Dean. "I know…I figured out…" Another breath, another look at Dean's perplexed face, and Sam decided to be blunt, "The maggots crawled under my skin. I found one in me."

Dean's eyes widened and he sat back in shock. He stared at Sam with his mouth open as he processed his brother's comment and the ramifications that followed it. Finally, Dean shook himself out of his stupor, "Where is it?"

Sam nodded to himself; he knew Dean well. However, rather than answer, Sam stared at his brother, willing him to telepathically 'get' where the maggot was.

Acknowledging the stare, but clearly not getting its hidden meaning, Dean stood up, raised his eyebrows and asked again, "Sam, where's the maggot in you?"

Sam's face took on a disgusted/depressed expression as he continued his stare at his brother. Dean own expression reflected annoyance and frustration most likely directed at Sam's mutism. Sam stared harder and suddenly Dean's eyes widened, flicked over to the bathroom, and back to Sam. Dean's expression turned to a mixture of pity and disgust. "Dude…that sucks."

Sam felt tears enter his eyes. He was well aware of how much it 'sucked', but hearing Dean say it out loud while looking at him with pity didn't help.

Dean spoke again, "It has to come out Sam."

Sam nodded, "I know."

Dean walked towards his brother, "It's poisoning you."

Sam avoided Dean's eyes, "I know."

Now standing in front of him, Dean took a deep breath, "You want a doctor to do it? There's a hospital about four hours from here."

Sam shook his head and coughed. "No. This is humiliating enough." He looked at Dean, smiling through his tears, "No need to bring even more people into this."

Dean nodded and then walked over to his bag. He pulled out a seven inch (18 cm) long knife and showed it to his brother. "You want my knife?"

Sam's eyes widened in shock and fear as he looked at the blade. The mere thought of that coming anywhere near that area of his body made him want to throw up. He shook his head, "Uh, yeah…I think I'm gonna go with a smaller blade. Thanks though."

Dean shrugged and placed the knife back in his bag. Then he pulled out holy water and the first aide kit. "I'll go outside. You're better off doing it by the fire, this way you can fry the sucker right after you get him out."

Sam nodded and swallowed. He took the holy water and first aide kit from his brother as Dean continued with his directions, "Make sure you get holy water on it immediately. We don't know what these things are yet. No point in taking chances."

Sam nodded again and Dean made his way to the door, "Sam."

Sam turned and Dean continued, "There were a lot of maggots around that night. You may have more than one on you."

Sam stared in resignation. He hadn't thought of that, but so long as they weren't in _that _area, he'd be able to handle it. "I'll check myself….You should too Dean. You were kneeling that night."

Dean nodded, although he hadn't been showing any symptoms. Still, it couldn't hurt to check. "I'll do that outside while you're…" He waved in his brother's direction and Sam nodded.

With one last look, Dean turned and left the cabin. Sam looked down at the holy water and first aide kit. This was so gonna suck…

With a great deal of reluctance, Sam undressed himself from the bottom down and sat next to the fire. Biting his lip, he pulled out the small, 1 cm box cutter he had found in his bag. He felt much better about that than Dean's seven inch knife. If he slipped up with the box cutter, yes it would do damage, but at least nothing would be accidentally cut off…

Preparing himself, Sam quickly shaved the area and then stuck the box cutter's blade in the fire to sterilize it. Once the blade was red with heat, he pulled it out and swabbed his skin with alcohol. The maggot-shaped bump squirmed under the skin throughout the shaving and swabbing. Sam cringed. He REALLY didn't want to do this.

The box cutter's redness was quickly turning black as the blade cooled. The quicker he got this over with, the better. Trying to stem another panic attack, Sam cautiously brought the blade to his skin and then squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them. This really wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to do with his eyes closed.

Taking a deep breath, Sam used his shaking hand to touch the blade to the skin. The maggot squirmed more as though sensing its impending doom and Sam literally whimpered. He REALLY did not want to do this. Sam brought his other hand to hold down his skin and contain the maggot in the area. Then, with another breath, he made a quick one inch (2.5 cm) incision in the skin.

The maggot's black, segmented body appeared in the hole in Sam's skin. The area was bleeding freely and Sam pulled out the tweezers to try to pull the creature out through the hole. As much as he hadn't wanted to do this, actually seeing the squirming maggot in him gave him more than enough motivation to finish the job quickly and without anymore hesitation.

Taking the tweezers, Sam attempted to fit them around the maggot's body. The cut skin stretched and tore at the edges of the incision and Sam winced in pain. This particular maggot seemed to be fatter than the others had been. Hoping that he had a good grip, Sam began to pull back on the tweezers. The maggot squirmed more and Sam felt a sharp piercing pain in the area. Every instinct had him wanting to drop the tweezers and double over, but he wasn't about to leave the maggot there free to roam around.

The tweezers managed to pull out the middle of the maggot's fat body before Sam's blood caused them to lose their grip. Sam looked down breathing through the pain and saw that the maggot wasn't just a maggot anymore. It was developing into a fly. Two small wings, too small to be able to lift the maggot in its current state, were flapping around on the creature's back. In addition, one thin, clawed leg had also popped out of the hole in Sam's skin. The leg kicked as the creature tried to fight its way back into Sam's body. Sam grabbed the tweezers and once again pulled on the creature's body. Immediately, the blood and slime and caused the tweezers to slip from around the maggot's body. Sam continued his yank through the slip and as his hand flew up with the tweezers, he noticed they weren't empty. Within them they held one of the maggot's wings. With a gag and a squirm, Sam dropped the wing into the fire.

More determined now than ever, Sam once again reached down with the tweezers and pulled on the creature's body. The maggot's squirming reached an all time high and Sam could see it burrowing away from the hole. He moved once again for a grip on the creature and was startled to see the maggot's beady red eyes. Apparently, the maggot had been traveling away from the hole backwards.

Seizing the opportunity of the edge of the maggot, Sam dropped the slippery tweezers and used his fingers to yank the maggot out by its head. With a quick and forceful tug, using his short fingernails for a grip, Sam plucked the maggot out of his body.

The pain in his genitals overwhelmed him causing red spots to float in front of his eyes. He fought to see through the spots and noticed the maggot attempting to eat its way into his finger. Without further thought, Sam dropped the creature into the fire and watched it burn.

Nausea filled Sam as he forced himself not to think of what just happened. Looking back down at himself, he saw one of the maggot's legs spasming in the hole in his skin. With the tweezers, he removed the leg and sent it to its fiery demise.

Wanting to get the rest of the disturbing event over with, Sam grabbed the bottle of holy water and poured it on the incision. Immediately the area steamed and burned and Sam dropped the bottle as he fell back in pain. There was no fighting through the pain this time. It had to have been the worst things he had ever felt. It was as though someone had taken that area of his body, stabbed it with a knife and then set it on fire. Tears ran freely down Sam's face as he struggled to breathe.

His hands were shaking even more now, along with his entire body. Gradually, over several minutes, the pain subsided, leaving only a dull ache. Wiping his face with his shaking hands, Sam sat up. Looking around, he noticed that thankfully the water bottle hadn't spilled. He picked up the bottle and poured more of the holy water on himself. This time, the water entered his wound without reaction. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. With the dirty work done, Sam applied antibiotic ointment to his incision and then sealed it with a liquid band-aid.

Sam took a deep calming breath. That…had…freakin'…sucked…

Unfortunately, it was not over. Sam still had to search his body for anymore maggots that may have wormed their way under his skin. Before beginning, Sam rechecked his right leg and counted the number of maggot sized cuts on it. There were four. Presumably, that meant that four maggots had crawled into him. Sam looked to the ceiling, great, three more.

A swift but thorough body check and Sam had found two more maggots, one on his right hip and one behind his right ear. The fourth maggot, if there was a fourth maggot, was nowhere to be found. Sam rechecked his body and still he was unable to find a fourth maggot. Sam hoped that the cuts on his leg were not an accurate representation of how many maggots had entered his body.

Leaving the thought of the missing fourth maggot behind, Sam quickly and efficiently extricated the second maggot from his hip. The experience of the first maggot had taught him well, and he was well prepared for the creature's shape, size, and sliminess. The second extrication went off without a hitch.

The third would be more difficult; that one was not in an area that Sam could see himself. He would need Dean's help for that one. With a sigh, and a grimace, Sam slowly stood up and began redressing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the thin invisible man standing in the corner of the cabin. Sam shot the man a glare and focused on getting dressed. He yelled at the man as he put on his clothes, "You've got to be freakin' kidding me. You have to show up now. I don't know who you are, or if you're even real..." Sam gave a heartless laugh as he buttoned his flannel shirt, "Maybe I _am _crazy. But crazy or not…" He looked back up at the man and pointed with his finger, "Dude, if you were watching me that whole time through that whole thing. I swear to you right now that I will find out who you are and make _sure _your ass burns in Hell for eternity."

A startled look crossed the man's face and he quickly disappeared. Sam was left with a startled look of his own. Had he actually just scared the invisible man? Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. The day just kept getting better and better. So all this time he had been backing away from these invisible people like a coward and it turned out all he had to do was threaten them and they would get scared and leave. Dean had been right…he should have been more aggressive with them. Sam kicked the coffee table in frustration and then went outside to find his brother.

Opening the door to the cabin, Sam found himself face to face with Dean. One hand held up in a fist, preparing to knock, Dean stared at his brother while trying to catch his breath, "I heard you yelling at someone."

Sam rolled his eyes and stormed back into the cabin. He answered his brother with sarcasm, "Don't worry about it Dean. I was just talking to a figment of my imagination."

Sighing at his brother's residual anger, Dean looked around the cabin. "Is he still here?"

Sam shook his head, "No. Apparently my hallucinations scare easy."

Dean was getting annoyed, "Enough Sam."

Sam took a breath to help let go of his irritation. Then he turned to his brother, "I got two of them out, but there's a third. I need your help."

Dean nodded.

Sam resumed his position next to the fire. By this time, the sun was once again beginning to set. There was still enough light filling the cabin, but the light was slowly dimming by the minute. Dean sat down next to his brother. "This one's…uh…not…you know…?"

Sam rolled his eyes and gave his brother a look. Dean raised his hands in surrender, "Just checking. 'Cause you know, there's just some things that I don't need to see…"

Once again Sam gave his brother a look. Then he got back to the matter at hand. Moving so that his brother was on his right, Sam tipped his head to the side and pulled his ear forward. "It's behind my ear."

Dean looked carefully and sure enough, behind Sam's ear was a small rotund lump. Dean made a face, "Aw…dude…that's just gross."

Sam gave his brother yet another look- he was WELL aware of how gross it was. Sam tried to refocus his brother; he wanted to get this over with, "Dean…"

Dean heard his brother's impatience and became serious. Quickly, he shaved the area behind Sam's ear and then looked around for a weapon. Sam handed him the box cutter and Dean held it tentatively. "Dude…this hasn't been…"

Sam growled, grabbed the box cutter back from Dean, wiped it with alcohol, and then shoved it back into Dean's hand. "Dean…the thing's poisoning me as we speak. You think you could focus here?"

Dean nodded at his brother's reminder and grimly but carefully set to cutting a line down his brother's scalp. As when Sam had done it, the maggot's body was easily visible once the skin was cut. Using the tweezers, Dean began pulling out the maggot's body. Unlike when Sam had removed the first maggot, Dean was able to maintain a steady grip on the creature. He grimaced as more of the creature slowly emerged. "Aw…man. The thing's practically a fly already. Shit Sammy, it must have been metamorphosing inside you…man…that's just disgusting."

Sam closed his eyes from the pain and the degradation of his brother's comments. This whole experience more than disturbed him, he was seeing (or hallucinating) invisible people, and it was all starting to overwhelm him. He needed Dean's support, not his distrust and his debasing remarks. He spoke to his brother in a whisper, "Dean please…"

Dean immediately shut his mouth. He hadn't realized how disturbed Sam had been until he whispered. With a final yank, the maggot was free and Dean flung it into the fire. Without missing a beat, he moved back to Sam, turned his head even more to the left, and poured holy water over the wound. Just as before, the area steamed and sizzled and Sam shut his eyes in pain. Although the pain was not as intense as before, this time, the burning sting radiated through his skull. Sam gasped as the pain blinded him.

As he attempted to control his breathing, Sam felt Dean's hand on his left shoulder, steadying him and another hand on his head, Dean's thumb rubbing the area above the incision. Sam drew strength from his brother's support and allowed himself to gradually relax. After a few minutes, Dean removed his hands and finished treating his brother's wound. Then he sat back.

Sam sat facing the fire with his head down. Slowly Dean watched his brother bring his knees up to his chest and bury his head in his knees. Offering comfort to his distressed sibling, Dean put a hand on Sam's back. "Hey. How ya doin'?"

Sam took a deep breath and looked up, "I'm calling this whole experience off limits." He looked at Dean to make sure he understood.

Dean nodded, "Never happened man."

Sam relaxed and stretched his legs out again. Leaning against the coffee table he looked at his brother, "Did you check yourself?"

Dean nodded, "I checked everything." He gave Sam a knowing look, "And I mean EVERYTHING…I'm all clear."

Sam nodded, relieved. He looked back at the fire, "I counted the cuts on my legs and there are four. I could only find three maggots though."

Dean appeared concerned. "You're sure? Did you look?"

Sam gave his brother an obvious stare and Dean acquiesced to his brother's look. Of course Sam had checked. Dean tried to offer his brother some reassurance and hope, "Well, if you couldn't find it, it's probably not there. Maybe you cut your leg with the poker. Or maybe that maggot never fully made it in…"

Sam nodded and accepted Dean's reassurance. If he couldn't find the thing, it wasn't worth worrying about. "So, you think now that they're out, the poison's stopped?"

Dean shrugged. He'd actually spent a good part of the afternoon, while Sam was dealing with the maggots, considering that question himself. Unfortunately, he hadn't come up with any sure answers. He honestly had no idea as to whether the poison would still affect Sam now that the maggots had been removed. "The vet said that the poison was released slowly and three days worth of poison is what killed the people. You only had a day and a half's worth. So we stopped it in time. I'm sure after a week, you'll be as good as new."

Sam eyed his brother skeptically. He wasn't sure he shared Dean's optimism. "I'm not sure it works that way."

Dean waved him off as he stood up, "Sure it does Sammy. You'll see. Tomorrow there'll be no more fainting."

Sam took Dean's offered hand and stood up. Changing the subject, he questioned his brother. "So now what?"

Dean gave him a grin, "Now we get dinner. Your invisible people interrupted our brunch and I'm starving."

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. He followed Dean as they walked to the door. "And where are we going for dinner?"

Dean answered, all smiles as he walked out the door. "Molly's of course."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks.

* * *

_Are you okay? Hopefully you'll be back for more..._


	12. Some Answers

_So, the site made itself all fancy, huh? Well, I applaud change…sometimes. :0)  
Thank you all SO much for all of your amazing reviews! It was like Christmas! Each e-mail I got I was like, 'Yay! A new review! I wonder what it says!' You have no idea how excited I get…and then they were all nice reviews despite the, uh, questionable subject material. So thank you all so much._

_For those who skipped the last chapter, I completely admire your willpower. And here's a short summary of what went on: Sam had maggots in him (under his skin) that metaphorphosised into flies. There are four cuts in his leg, which presumably means that there are four maggots, but Sam could only find three. Dean helped him remove the one behind his ear. Dean is all clear. Oh! And Sam yelled at Mr. Invisible from the cabin and scared him away._

_To those I can't reply to:  
**Spuffyshipper: **Haven't seen the OC…but you should be watching SN! The OC's not in any danger…SN is in question for the third season. Come on! Support the ratings!  
**Swenglish**: Urg and Yay? Lol…Glad you're enjoying yourself there.  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie**: Good for you figuring it out ahead of time! And they can't find another maggot…it's not like they're just leaving it…**  
Doublevision:** Ouch? Yes, definitely. As for maggot number four…I say nothing. You never know…it could go either way.  
**Magicsunbeam:** One other person was local to the Lambton Wrom too. I'm glad there are other people out there that've heard of it (other than me).  
**Lola:** Nope, no crack. That was all on my own…drug-free. I hope you're laughing rather than crying!  
**Brokenwind: **Glad you were surprised…and congrats on having figured out that Sam was poisoned.  
**Fiona-sam fan**: Aw! You're so sweet! That review made me so happy. Thank you!_

* * *

**Chapter 11: Some Answers**

Twenty minutes later the brothers found themselves, yet again, standing outside of Molly's Diner. The streets were again empty and any evidence of the brunch crowd or the accident was non-existent. Dean shuddered as he looked around. "You know, the more time we spend in this town, the creepier it gets."

Sam gave his brother a look. _Dean_ thought the place was creepy? _Dean _wasn't the one seeing invisible people everywhere he looked. Sam looked over at the diner window and quickly spied the invisible man eating blueberry pie at the counter. Looking over to tell Dean, Sam noticed his brother was gone. Surprised, he looked around and quickly found Dean inside the diner talking to Molly. Sam entered the diner to join them.

Dean caught Sam up on his conversation with Molly, "Molly says that Charlotte's fine. Vet checked her out…not even a scratch…" Dean emphasized the last part giving his brother a significant look. Sam nodded and then looked at the counter. So far it seemed, the invisible man was more interested in his blueberry pie than Sam.

"Why don't you boys sit down at your regular table?"

The brothers followed Molly over to their 'regular table' and sat. Molly handed them menus and then addressed Sam with concern, "What happened to your head sweetie?"

Sam looked up confused, "What?" Then he felt the bandage behind his ear, "Oh."

Dean answered for him with a grin, "Bad bug bite."

Sam rolled his eyes and returned to the menu as Molly walked away. Dean nudged his brother under the table and Sam looked back up. "Mr. Invisible of the blueberry pie?"

Sam nodded to the counter, "Sitting in his regular seat, eating his blueberry pie."

Dean nodded, "Yeah well, keep him there and no fainting this time."

Annoyed, Sam dropped his menu, "I don't have control over them Dean."

Dean countered him, "They're coming out of your mind…"

Sam glared, "No. They're not. I'm not making them up."

Dean rolled his eyes, willing himself to have patience with his possibly sick sibling. "Sam, I'm not saying that you don't see them, but come on man, they're obviously a result of the poison." At Sam's unmoved look, Dean continued, "All I'm saying is that the poison is making you see things."

Sam shook his head, "I don't think so Dean. I've never seen any of these people in my life, why would I be hallucinating them?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know man. Maybe they're people you've seen; you just don't remember them."

Sam turned back to his menu annoyed. He wasn't going to continue arguing the point.

Dean picked up his own menu and tried to block out Sam's dejected look. He felt bad that he didn't believe Sam, he really did. But he had to tell Sam what he really thought the invisible people were. It made sense that they were linked to the poison considering they began showing up after Sam's body had been infected by the maggots. Dean shuddered as he remembered pulling the maggot/fly out of the skin behind his brother's ear. Sam was right…they should have known more about the Lambton worms before trying to produce one of their own. They hadn't even been aware that anyone had died…Dean shook his head, he really hoped that fourth cut on Sam's leg wasn't another maggot…

"What can I get ya today boys?"

The brother's looked up as the waitress placed two glasses of water on the table. Then she pulled two straws out of her apron. Dean waved at the glasses, "Don't take this the wrong way Molly, but I think we're gonna pass on the water. Thanks."

Molly looked concerned, but didn't move the glasses, "I'm borrowing water from Pepi next door. This here water's clean."

Dean nodded and flashed a smile, "All the same…I think we're gonna go with something out of a can."

The waitress shrugged, "Suit yourselves. I'll just leave the water here in case ya change your minds. Now, you boys ready to order?"

Dean nodded, "I'll have a sprite and the spaghetti."

The waitress turned to Sam, "And you hun?"

Sam looked up from the menu appearing somewhat distracted, "What? Oh! Uh, I don't know. I guess the lasagna and a coke."

The waitress nodded and turned to leave, but Sam called her back. "Molly?"

Molly turned and Sam continued, "I'm sorry to ask this and I know it's coming out of nowhere, but…what was your husband's favorite food?"

Molly stepped back looking surprised by the question. "Uh…my blueberry pie. Why?"

Sam nodded, a grim look on his face, "And, um, was your husband a…heavy-set man?"

Molly looked confused but indulged Sam, "Yes. He was a fat man if that's what you're gettin' at. Didn't make no difference in the end though. Docs told him 'bout diabetes and fatty livers, and strain on his heart and none of those things are what killed him." Molly turned away with a sad look on her face, "I just hope wherever he is, he's eatin' all the blueberry pie he wants." She turned back to the boys, "I would only let 'im eat one piece a week…for his health. I should've let him eat as much as he wanted."

Sam held the waitress' hand, "I'm sure he's watching over you right now with a piece of pie in hand and a grin on his face."

Molly patted Sam's hand and then let go, "I'm sure he is. After what happened today, I know my Bobby was watchin' out for Charlotte."

Sam sat back stunned by Molly's last statement as she left to make the food. Dean spoke, oblivious to his brother's expression, "Is he?"

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, "Is who what?"

Dean leaned in and whispered, "Is Bobby grinning at Molly while holding a piece of pie."

Sam had an unamused look on his face, "So you believe me now?"

Dean rolled his eyes and sat back, "Yeah well…come on Sam, what was I supposed to think?"

Sam leaned forward, whispering his argument, "You were supposed to trust me. It's bad enough that I'm seeing things that no one else does. I don't need you thinking I'm crazy on top of it."

Dean avoided his brother's eyes, "I never said you were crazy."

Sam stared at his brother in unspoken disagreement and Dean changed the subject, "So at least we know who the invisible people are then."

Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat, "Yeah, but why am I the only one who can see them?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Your shining?"

Sam ran a hand over his face, "Stop calling it that Dean." Dean made no response and Sam continued, "So what…I can see dead people now? That's great. You know how many dead people there are in America?"

Dean snickered at Sam's comment and Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, "Oh what now?"

Still snickering, Dean responded, "You said, 'I see dead people'." Then Dean laughed harder.

Once again Sam stared at his brother with an unamused look and rapidly fading patience. Dean fought to get his laughter under control, "Oh come on Sammy. So you're seeing some dead people. So what? We fight ghosts all the time. It's not like this is the first time you've seen one."

Sam leaned forward, a distressed look on his face, "It's never been just me Dean. When we go after ghosts, you see them too. And it's not like there's just one here; they're everywhere."

Dean looked around the diner, "How many do you see now?"

Sam sighed, "Just Bobby…for right now…but before I saw at least six in here."

Dean had a thoughtful look on his face, "When Charlotte got hit by the car?"

Sam nodded and Dean finished his thought, "You think they caused it? The accident I mean…"

Sam shook his head, "No…I think they saved her."

Dean stared at his brother startled and confused. Sam attempted to explain, "I don't know how it works, but when Charlotte got hit, Bobby and the others were staring at her…watching over her. It's like with Orpheus Wendel, he died and his children were miraculously kept safe."

Dean nodded, "And now you think Bobby's doing the same thing as that Orpheus dude?"

Sam nodded and Dean scratched his chin, "Well that's a hell of a twist. The ghosts are saving people. Great…"

Their conversation was interrupted as Molly set two plates of food down on the table, followed by two drinks. "Here ya go boys. Eat up and if ya still have room, in honor of Bobby, I'll throw in some of my famous blueberry pie for free."

Molly walked away and Sam looked at the counter to see Bobby staring at him with his unnatural grin. Free blueberry pie…great…

The brothers ate their respective dinners while engaging in a long discussion with Molly regarding the people who had died similarly to her husband. Molly described for the brothers, the three other victims who had died within the past month. Afterwards, she then told her captive audience stories, legends about others who had died of mysterious stomach ailments in which they had vomited living creatures.

All the stories had several commonalities. One, vomiting the creature was not a sentence to death, it appeared to be hit or miss, although the larger, more solid creatures seemed to be linked with more fatalities. Two, when vomited, the larger creatures appeared to be taking the form of a human. And finally, before they died, the victims all claimed to have seen other people…people that no one else could see.

After a polite refusal of Molly's famous blueberry pie, the brothers returned to the cabin to discuss the new information. Upon entering the cabin, Dean relit the fire as Sam paced around the couch.

Dean rolled his eyes, distracted by his brother's pacing, "Do you have to do that?"

Sam stopped, "Do what?"

The fire now lit, Dean walked over to the couch and sat, "The pacing, man. You're making me dizzy."

Sam stayed where he was, but began biting his nails, "I can't help it Dean. This hunt's making me nervous."

Once again Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, "_This_ hunt's making you nervous? With all the shit we've been through, some ghosts and a bunch of maggot infested Lambton worms are freaking you out?"

Sam shot his brother an annoyed look, "Dean. We have no idea what's going on AND, more importantly, we have no idea how to fix it."

Dean waved him off, he wished there was a TV in this place, "We know plenty Sammy. We know it was the maggots that were poisoning people. We know that your ghosts are victims of the maggots. We know that you're…" Dean gave a laugh, "seeing dead people…because of the poison…which, by the way, I thought you'd be happy about."

Sam nodded and resumed his pacing, "I am. Believe me, I am. I really didn't need any more abilities to make me all the more freakish."

Dean tracked his brother while he paced, "So what's your problem then?"

Sam stopped once again to look at his brother. Then he shook his head, "I don't know. I just…I would feel better if we knew what was causing the…water to cause the Lambton worms."

Dean shrugged, "Seems to me that we _know_ the well is the issue AND we know that fire kills the flies and maggots…I say, tomorrow, we drive over to Molly's pour gasoline into the well through the hole that we so fortuitously created for ourselves, and the light the place up."

Sam raised his eyebrows, allowing a slight grin to break his features, "Fortuitously?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Oh shut the hell up man. Just 'cause I chose to spend my school days enjoying myself and not becoming a personification of the word geek like you did, doesn't mean I don't know shit."

Sam stared at his brother incredulously, a smirk still planted across his face, "Personification too…hmmm…word of the day toilet paper?"

Dean got up and began walking to his bed, "Since when have we been in one place long enough for me to use word of the day toilet paper?"

Sam snickered and moved to his own bed, "So you admit to owning it then?"

Changing for bed, Dean pulled his shirt over his head and then paused to glare at his brother, "If I were you man, I'd shut my trap…there's a whole shitload of stuff that, if I were not the sweet caring brother that I am, I could be humiliating you with right now."

Sam's smile dwindled, replaced by a confused and somewhat concerned face. Then his expression grew annoyed, "I called that off limits Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes and slipped on an undershirt to sleep in, "I don't need _that _to humiliate you with Sammy." Dean shot his brother a full faced grin, "I've got a whole lifetime of the stupid, embarrassing shit that you've done."

Relieved and appreciative of Dean's willingness to respect that boundary, Sam's expression changed from annoyed and to doubtful, "I think you're confusing me with yourself."

Smelling the challenge, Dean's grin widened as he slipped into bed, "Really? So…that wasn't _you_ who in the library at age 13 walked over to the girl you had been hot for ALL YEAR and asked, 'May I carry your boobs?'"

Sam's face immediately blushed a deep red as he mumbled under his breath and avoided eye-contact with his brother.

Laughing, Dean questioned his brother, "What was that Sammy? I didn't catch that…"

Now annoyed, embarrassed, and changed for bed, Sam threw his bag on the floor and shot his brother a challenging stare as he got into his own bed, "You know…I've been there for most of your life too. For everything you've got on me, I can match you."

Dean laughed, "In your dreams Sam. No way you've got more shit on me than I've got on you."

Sam's eyebrow's rose in acceptance of the challenge. Then he laid back in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was amazing how ten years later, his first, miserably failed, attempt at asking a girl out still caused his face to prickle with embarrassment. Letting go of his own humiliation, Sam smiled as he thought of one of his brother's more mortifying moments. "At least I never pissed myself in the middle of sex."

Dean's face now matched his brother's as he rolled over to point in Sam's directions. "Okay, number one, we were making out in the pool and I was like ten. There was no sex. Two, everybody goes in the pool when they're a kid, it's a fact of life…I just didn't realize the water would turn green."

Sam burst out laughing and Dean rolled onto his back glaring at the ceiling. "Fine, fine, laugh it up…but it's on now dude."

Trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard, Sam nodded in his bed, "Fine. But just remember you started it."

Dean nodded, "And I'll finish it too."

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_Will you be back for the next chapter? Review and let me know what you're thinking about the story so far!_


	13. The Other Well

_Thank you all so much…this site (despite its issues) really is a wonderful place. Thank you all so much for continuing to read and review! I'm so happy to be entertaining you…  
To those I can't reply to:  
**Spuffyshipper: **Glad you're back! According to Kripke, SN only has a 50 chance of being renewed for a third season. He says that people aren't spreading the word. SPREAD PEOPLE! That was a weird thing to say…  
**Brokenwind: **Thanks! And you can say 'nice' as much as you want. As for your question, I say nothing…  
**Anon**: Lol…I agree with you about the hug. If only…but that's why I write ff. As for the IQ bashing, it never seemed to me that Dean took it personally and I just figured it was one of their things they threw at each other…Sam mocks Dean's lack of motivation in school and Dean calls Sam a geek. Plus, Dean's been plenty obnoxious in this story, he gets what he gives.  
**Lola**: It's not nearly over…have no fear. There's more banter and a double side of angst left to go!  
**V: **Glad you found it! Thanks for letting me know that you're having fun!  
**Fiona: **Okay- seriously making me blush. That was SO sweet! And I'm a natural Kripke? That's like one of the best compliments ever! Thank you! I know I don't know you, but here's a hug for making me so happy! (Fiona)_

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**Chapter 14: The Other Well**

The next morning, after two brown water showers and a quick breakfast of omlettes, the brothers, yet again, headed out to Molly's. Sam rubbed at his skin as Dean drove. "You know, I think I felt cleaner before that shower…"

Dean looked up at the sky through his windshield, "Well, looks like in a few hours you'll be able to take the soap outside and try again."

Sam followed his brother's gaze out the window and up to the dark clouds that covered the sky. He gave a wry grin, "Great. Well, that should make it easier to burn the well…um, what exactly _is_ our plan here Dean?"

Dean sighed, "We go in, we tell Molly that we can clean her well, we'll do it for free. Then…it's like I said last night, we pour the gas in and light it up."

Sam nodded, "Riiight. Just pour the gas in and light it up…and what about the flies that will be swarming out while we're pouring the gas?"

"Don't be ridiculous Sam, the flies won't be able to come out, the hole'll be plugged by the gascan."

Sam nodded again, "So, even better then, the flies can fly into the gascan and clog it."

Dean removed his eyes from the road to shoot his brother a look, "Stow the pessimism Sammy. It's the best plan we've got…unless you've got a better one?"

Sam shook his head, "I think maybe we should try to find out more about that Orpheus Wendel dude. He's got to be tied to this in some way…and I still don't know who half the people I've been seeing are. We know Bobby. And our cabinmate is probably that guy Jim that died the week before Bobby."

Dean nodded, "And well boy is the kid from the fifties who used to live there."

Sam agreed, "Right, the kid whose parent's sold the place to Bobby's family right after the kid died."

Dean turned to his brother, "Maybe the dude with the brown suit that you saw next to Bobby was old Orpheus."

Sam's brows knitted in confusion, "What makes you think that?"

Dean shrugged, "You said he was different than the others, that you were drawn to him in some way…it'd make sense that the original would stand out…"

Sam nodded to himself; that would make sense. Sam remembered his encounter with the man in the brown suit. Before he had woken on the floor, he remembered looking into the man's eyes and feeling calm and at peace. Sam shook his head, Orpheus Wendel, if that's who the man in the brown suit was, hadn't seemed evil…and the ghosts were saving people. What the hell was going on?

Sam shook his head, lost in his own thoughts. Dean seemed very nonchalant about this entire hunt. Sam couldn't understand it. Normally they took care to make sure they knew what they had to do, before they tried to do anything. Yet, from the beginning of this hunt, and especially after Dean's close encounter with the Lambton worm, Dean had been barreling through seemingly trying to get it over with as fast as possible.

Sam was shaken out of his thoughts as the brothers pulled up in front of Molly's. Upon getting out of the car, Sam called his brother's attention the barn where Molly was feeding a lamb.

Molly stood up as the boys approached. She greeted them with a smile, "Don't tell me you boys've come for lunch too?"

Dean shook his head, "No. Not today Molly. Sam and I've been talking it over and I don't know if we mentioned it before, but we own a well-repair company back home in Kansas… Sam and I'd like to take a look at your well. See if we can fix it for you."

Sam interjected, "There'd be no charge of course."

Dean nodded, "After what happened, we're kind of interested in what's going on ourselves."

Molly nodded while looking suspicious. Then she turned to Sam, "Don…the man who owns the General Store, he told me that he had to give you a whole lesson on welling systems the other day…"

Sam smiled gracefully, "I didn't know what kind of system you were working off of out here. He gave me more information than I needed, but then, he seemed so happy to be explaining it, that I just let him."

Molly smiled, "Yes, Don does love to talk…he loves it even more when he thinks he's teachin' somethin'." Then she looked back and forth between the two brothers. "I don't mind you lookin' at the well. You can't make it any worse than it is anyway. As it is we can't use it at all. But I wouldn't hear of you boys doin' it for free."

The brother's went to argue, but were silenced when Molly held up her hands. "No. Now I mean it. I won't have you boys workin' for free. We'll make a deal, you boys fix my well, and I'll give each of you one of my famous blueberry pies. They's won first prize at the state fair twelve years in a row now."

Dean raised his brows and nodded, "Twelve straight years." Then he turned to Sam, "Did you hear that Sammy? Twelve straight years. That's got to be some damn good blueberry pie." Then he turned back to Molly, "You know what Molly, I think we've got a deal. I know Sam here was whining all night about how much he had wanted a piece of your pie."

Sam glowered in his brother's direction as Molly, completely unaware of Dean's sarcasm, smiled. "Great, then that's settled. The well's right in the back there…and there's a tunnel down to the new well in the woods in the back. That tunnel's a bit larger and it's got a ladder in it, so you might want to try there first. The old well entrance has been sealed up for years now." And with that, Molly walked back into her house.

After Molly left, Sam turned to his brother, "Dean…what are we gonna do about the second entrance to the well?"

Dean looked over, confused, "What do you mean?"

Sam spoke with concern, "I mean, if there's a second entrance to the aquifier…we need to make sure that if we blow up one end, fire, or worse, flies don't come shooting out the other."

Dean shrugged, "Come on man. Use your brain. There are two of us. I'll go smoke out the well and you can watch the back end."

Sam bit his lip. He wasn't happy with Dean's insistence on burning the well. There was A LOT that they still didn't know and a lot that in Sam's opinion, they NEEDED to know. "Dean…I think we should rethink this."

Dean turned towards his brother confused, "What are you talking about?"

Sam sighed and rubbed his face, "I just think we need more information before we do something that makes the situation worse."

Dean threw his hands up, "Oh, give me a break, Sam. How could burning the well make the situation worse?"

Sam was frustrated, "It could blow up and release all the flies into the air infecting everything for one."

Dean shook his head and began walking towards the well, "Like I said before, stow the pessimism, man. Unless you have a better plan, we do it this way."

Sam crossed his arms at his brother's retreating back. Dean's stubbornness was beginning to give him a headache. Quickly, he ran past his brother, stopping in front of him.

With Sam in front of him, Dean was forced to stop. Dean stepped back annoyed and frustrated, "Oh, what the hell now?"

Sam crossed his arms again, "There _is_ another plan. It's called get more information before jumping in."

Dean threw his arms up in defeat, "Fine Sammy. Where're we supposed to go for this information huh? Town library? Oh that's right, there is none."

Sam nodded in an attempt to calm his brother, "We can _both_ check out the other entrance to the aquifier, see what we're dealing with on that end…see if that's also infested…"

Still annoyed, Dean acquiesced to his brother's wishes, "Fine. We're wasting time if you ask me, but fine. We'll do this your way…" Dean gestured towards the forest behind Molly's house, "…lead the way research boy."

Sam led the way, unhappy about Dean's need to rush. He spoke to his brother as they walked through the forest, "Dean, the diner's not using their well water right now, so no one's in danger. Why are you so hell bent on finishing this hunt asap?"

Dean shook his head, unwilling to answer the question. "I said forget it. We're doing it your way."

Sam growled at his brother's muteness and moved ahead, leaving Dean to follow behind, lost in thought. The truth was, Dean was worried…about Sam. It was day three for the poison, _if_ Sam was still being poisoned, and for the other victims, day three had been their last. While Dean hoped that all the maggots had been removed and that their removal meant that Sam could now heal, he wasn't about to rest his brother's life on that one hope. Not that Dean knew if destroying the well would heal Sam either, but two hopes were always better than one. Still, Dean didn't want to share his fears with his brother. Sam didn't need to worry and he definitely didn't need to know that Dean was worried, he'd never live that down.

As Dean reflected on his worries, Sam was dealing with concerns of his own. As he walked into the forest, more and more invisible people were appearing. It had started with the boy from the well, followed by two women with long brown hair and white nightgowns. After that, several of the cowboys appeared, as well as Bobby, and a young, modern looking man. By the time the brother's reached the second well-access area, Sam found himself surrounded by at least thirty ghosts. The only invisible people not present were the man from the cabin and the man in the brown suit.

Sam spun around, frantically, watching his stalkers as Dean spoke. "This must be it. Looks more like a storm cellar than a well."

After receiving no response, Dean looked up and saw Sam's frantic spinning. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

The ghosts were all beginning to smile in their eerie ways as they slowly moved towards Sam. Sam stopped his spinning and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that the invisible people had caused him to faint twice, and he didn't want them to have the opportunity to cause a third.

Ignoring Dean's question, Sam psyched himself up. He had told off 'Mr. Invisible of the cabin' and had scared the man away. Therefore, he could do the same with these ghosts…even though there were thirty of them. Still, Sam was pretty sure that if he put on his most intimidating face, he could frighten the ghosts. Taking a deep breath, Sam tried to draw all his life's anger and frustration into his body so that he could direct it at the invisible predators.

He thought of his hatred for the demon. What it had done to his mother, Jess, his father…what it had done to Dean, torturing Dean in front of him. The demon had ruined his life; taken his girlfriend away because they would have been happy and successful together. Sam was ready. He just had to treat these people like they were the demon.

With his head down, Sam slowly opened his eyes and turned them up. A ghost of a dead girl was a mere two inches from his face. Filled with an anti-demon rage, Sam was unimpressed. In a tone of absolute hatred, he spoke to the grinning dead girl. "Move back right now."

Sure enough, a startled expression crossed the ghost's face and she moved back. Her movement allowed Sam to see, out of the corner of his eye, the other ghosts that had surrounded him. Like the girl, they were also moving back…no longer grinning.

Slowly Sam picked his head up and directed all his anger out of his eyes and towards the ghosts. Instantly, he became aware of a strange feeling as though the anger being directed out of his eyes was carrying his energy out with it. Sam pushed the feeling aside. The invisible people had to be dealt with. "All of you are going to leave right now or I swear…with God as my witness…I will make it my job whether in life or in death to hunt each and every one of you down and destroy your souls until there is nothing left."

The faces immediately became wide-eyed and the dead stalkers all took another step back. Seconds later and beginning with the women, the invisible people began vanishing one by one. A minute later, only one cowboy stood…a quick look around and he also disappeared.

Looking around to make sure all of the invisible people had left, Sam stumbled back relieved and weakened. He felt Dean catch and support him as he closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.

"Wild guess here…invisible people?"

With a smile, Sam nodded and opened his eyes. Having regained some of his strength, he moved away from his brother to support himself. "Thanks."

Dean shrugged, "Yeah well, I'm not a cane. Next time you need something to lean on aim for one of those trees."

Sam rolled his eyes and couldn't help thinking that Dean was a liar. There had never been a time when he _couldn't_ lean on Dean. With a smile, Sam decided to use his brother's quip against him, "Come on Dean, you know you're skin's a lot softer than a tree's."

Sam laughed as Dean's face turned beet red. Score two for Sam. Sam smiled at the memory.

When he and Dean had been ages eight and twelve, respectively, they stayed in a bungalow on the Jersey Shore. They spent most of that summer on the beach enjoying themselves. That particular day had started like any other, Sam was making sandcastles and Dean was checking out women in bikinis while eating cheese fries. It began with one seagull walking up to Dean and Dean making the huge mistake of feeding it. Within seconds, Dean was swarmed by the birds, being dive bombed by them as they aimed to rip his cheese fries from his hand. As a child, Sam remembered staring in amazement as his 'tough' older brother screamed like a girl and ran down the beach flapping his hands over his head. Knowing that he had to stay with Dean, Sam had left his sandcastles to follow his brother, only to catch up to Dean just as he tripped over a beer cooler and landed face first in a large and sweaty man's crotch. The man himself had taken the incident much better than Dean who didn't speak at all the man and his two incredibly hot female friends stood Dean up and brushed the sand off of him. When the girls asked what had happened, Sam had answered for his brother stating that the birds were trying to land on Dean and Dean didn't like being sat on. Sam hadn't realized that he had only added to Dean's embarrassment. The icing for the cake however was when the large sweaty man, put an arm around Dean, giving him a shake and saying, "Well, I guess they needed something to land on and this kid's skin's a lot softer than a tree." Sam hadn't understood until years later why Dean wanted to spend the rest of the summer away from the beach…and the seagulls.

Dean pointed a finger at his brother as he shook off the memory of that incident. "Dude. You've got off-limit shit. I think that whole experience should fall into off limits for me."

Sam rolled his eyes, "I don't think having a sweaty guy comment on how soft your skin is is the same as taking a knife to a part of your body that should be handled with care."

Dean shuddered at his own memory, "Dude, you don't get to make that judgment, your face didn't land where mine did. I felt stuff."

Sam made a face and then resisted a chuckle. "It's too late Dean, I already brought it up. It's two-one now."

Slowly Sam began walking towards the large, flat, door in the ground that indicated the entrance to the well. Despite joking around with his brother, he still felt weak, and his headache had gotten worse.

Despite his annoyance at being one-upped, Dean found himself watching with concern as Sam walked. It was clear from the speed of Sam's walk that he wasn't well, but Dean wasn't sure if that was a result of the maggots' poison or the encounter with the invisible people. Uneasy, Dean questioned his brother, "Sam? You okay man?"

Sam put a hand to his head and nodded with closed eyes. "Yeah. I just feel weird after going one-on-thirty with those ghosts."

Dean walked up to his brother, "Weird like how?"

Sam took a breath and shook his head. Then he looked at his brother, "I don't know, man. I just feel weak. Like some energy was sucked out of me when I threatened them."

With worry etched in his face, Dean brought up a hand to Sam's forehead. Fear crept through Dean's body as he felt the fever. "Sam. You've got a fever."

Denial, followed by fear flashed through Sam's facial expressions. He shook his head at Dean, "No Dean. I felt fine before. I haven't even fainted since I took the maggots out."

Dean stepped back, still concerned, "What about the fourth one?"

Sam argued, "I'm not sure that there is a fourth one, man. There was a cut, but that could've been from anything."

Dean stared skeptically at his brother and Sam's fear grew into annoyance. "I checked everywhere for it Dean. Everywhere. It's not in me…and weren't you the one who said, 'if you couldn't find it, it's probably not there'."

Dean waved his brother off, "I was just trying to make you feel better."

Sam scoffed, "Yeah. Great. Thanks. This is much better."

Dean ignored his brother and moved over to the large wooden door that represented the well entrance. Bending down, Dean grabbed the latch on the giant door and pulled. It took all his strength, but he managed to get the door open about six inches (15 cm), wide enough for Sam to reach under and help Dean pull the door all the way open. Once the door was open. Sam grabbed the metal pole that had been installed by the door and arranged it to hold the door up.

Along the wall, under the door was a ten rung metal ladder leading to the floor of the dark hole. Dean turned towards Sam, "Well, looks like there's no bugs. Give me a light while I climb down?"

Sam pulled out his flashlight and nodded. Sam shined his light into the hole as Dean climbed down. The well entrance was a literal hole in the ground with walls that had been lined with cement. The floor, however, was unsupported dirt. In the middle of the floor was a small pipe, about ten inches (25 cm) in diameter, which went straight up about six inches (15 cm) from the ground, and then turned and ran about five feet (1.5 meters) into the wall facing Molly's house. Once Dean was in the hole, with his own flashlight out, Sam climbed down to join his brother.

Sam reached the floor as Dean scanned the small six by six foot room with his flashlight. The walls and ceiling were raw, gray, cement; the floor was hard packed dirt. Dean shined the flashlight into his brother's face forcing Sam to squint. "So…what are we learning from this research boy?"

Sam rolled his eyes and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Well for one thing, this pipe goes from the aquifier to Molly's house. So if we lit the aquifier on fire; it could go into her house."

Dean gave his brother a look, "Come on Sam. How the hell would we light the water on fire? All we'd be able to do is kill the insects in the air and along the well walls."

Sam didn't have an answer. Dean was right, the second well entrance wasn't nearly as useful as Sam would have hoped. Sam watched as Dean began climbing up the ladder. "Dean?"

Dean looked down from where he stood mid-way up the ladder and Sam continued, "Since we're here, maybe we should open the pipe and seal it off from the house."

Dean stared down, "Sure thing Sammy. Just let me reach in my back pocket and take out my pipe cutter."

Sam shook his head, beginning to feel the fever. "There's a valve maybe we can unscrew it."

Dean continued to stare in disbelief, "Yeah…hang on…I think my industrial sized pipe wrench is in my other pocket."

Sam sighed and wiped his brow again.

Suddenly, Dean jumped down from his place on the ladder and walked over to the far right wall. Mounted in the dark corner of the wall was a white plastic box. Dean flipped it open. "Huh…"

Sam moved over to his brother, "What is it?"

Dean looked sheepishly at the box, "Uh…I think it's the shut off switch for the pump…"

"Oh." Sam joined his brother in an embarrassed look; a shut off switch certainly made things easier.

Dean flipped the switch and the low humming noise that the brother's hadn't even been aware that they had been hearing stopped. "Well, now you don't have to worry about the water going into Molly's house. She just needs to drain the rest of what's in the pipe."

Sam shook his head, "But the pipe's still connected Dean. Fire could still go into the house."

Dean turned to his brother angrily, "Sam. How the hell could the fire travel through the well water? Dude, that doesn't even make sense."

Sam shook his head again, determined to make Dean understand. "I still say that we need to seal off the pipe before we light the other end."

Angry at his brother's stubborness and fueled by a need to stop whatever was going on before Sam got sicker, Dean yelled at his brother, "Forget it Sam. We've wasted too much time over here already. I'm lighting the other end. If Molly's house burns, then it burns. Serves her right for serving us the tainted water to begin with."

As Dean stormed back towards the ladder, Sam grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, turning him back around. "Dean…Molly didn't do this. You can't blame her. If anything, we _knew_ there was something wrong with the food and we went out of our way to eat it anyway."

Dean ground his teeth as he cut his brother off, "You mean me. Say what you mean Sam. It wasn't _we_, it was _me_. I was the one who insisted we eat at Molly's."

Sam took a step back, softening his tone, "Is that what this is about?"

Dean shook his head and once again began climbing the ladder, "Is that what what is about?"

Sam questioned his brother's retreating back, "Is that why you're so pissy? 'Cause you drank the water without knowing it could be deadly."

Dean pulled himself out of the hole and answered as Sam began his own assent. "I'm not _pissy_ Sam…_pissy_ is what girls are when they're on the rag. _I_…am _pissed_ because we're wasting time…" Dean reached down and helped Sam out of the hole. "…because my brother, who got a full ride to Stanford, doesn't understand that water can't catch on fire."

Sam stood up and brushed off his sweaty hands as Dean shut the door to the well. "Dean…I'm just saying…we should be safe about this. Besides, we don't know if setting a fire in the well will do anything anyway."

Dean raised his brows, "Well it sure as hell can't do less than what we're doing now."

Sam stomped his foot. He really wasn't feeling well. He was hot, his joints were beginning to ache and his head was pounding. And to top it all off…Dean was being an ass. "Dean…"

Before Sam could continue, Dean's own anger took over and Dean interrupted, "Sam…forget it. I don't have a pipe cutter; I don't have a pipe wrench. I don't have _anything _that would cut that pipe open or seal it. So shut your mouth." And with that, Dean began walking back towards the house.

Frustrated at being ignored, and upset with being yelled at Sam closed his eyes and took a breath. After a moment, he opened his eyes and shook his head. Dean was probably right, chances were that the aquifier wouldn't catch on fire. But the truth was, that they had no idea what was at the bottom of the well; if it was flammable…still, there was nothing Sam could do about it. Dean was right. They didn't have the tools needed to fix the pipe. Sam began jogging to catch up with Dean.

It was three steps into the jog when the world tilted and Sam slammed into a nearby tree. Wincing at the contact between the tree and his arm, Sam couldn't help but think that the sweaty man had been right…Dean was much softer than a tree.

Slowly, Sam pushed himself away from the tree and took tentative, small steps. The front of his head pounded and an aching along both sides of his ribcage made it hard to breathe. The pounding in the front of his head seemed to be affecting his balance, every pound of pain making him feel like he was walking through a clothes dryer on tumble mode. The ground refused to still and Sam held his breath trying to push down the nausea. Looking up, he saw Dean now fifteen feet ahead. Realizing that he wouldn't make it far on his own, he called out, "Dean!"

Clearly still annoyed Dean stopped walking and turned around. "Sam…I said forget it. We're burning the well and that's it."

Sam shook his head willing his brother to understand that he wasn't trying to continue the argument.

Confused, Dean jogged back towards his brother. It was when Dean was about five feet away that he knew something was wrong. Sam was pale and sweaty, his glassy eyes asking for help. Dean walked right up to his brother and took an arm. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head and forced a smile, "Sorry Dean. I tried the tree, but it wasn't nearly as comfortable."

Dean shook his head and draped Sam's arm over his shoulders. "You're an ass, you know that?"

Sam concentrated on not vomiting as he stumbled against his brother. The world was out of control and had it not been for Dean's strong pull, Sam knew he'd have walked right into the floor. As they walked, Sam felt Dean's grip on his waist and wrist get tighter. Clearly Dean had felt Sam's off-balanceness as much as Sam had. Finally, when they were out of the forest, Sam responded to his brother's insult. "Dean? I don't think I feel well."

Dean stopped walking and raised his eyebrows. Ducking his head so that he could see Sam's eyes, Dean studied his brother carefully, "You don't think? What was your first clue Sam?"

The sarcasm was lost on Sam, along with his sense of awareness. Gradually, where he was and what he was doing faded from his mind. Pain in his joints and muscles took over, along with nausea, and an overwhelming fatigue. Slowly Sam began to sink to the floor.

With his arm still around his brother, Dean hoisted Sam back up. "Uh uh. You can't sit here. I know you enjoy sitting in dog shit…that makes it two-two dude…but I can't have you bringing that shit into the car."

Sam nodded, unaware of most of what Dean had said. Slowly and carefully, Dean led his sick brother back to the car. By the time they reached the Impala, Sam's eyes were closed and he was practically asleep on his feet. Dean opened the passenger door and helped his brother in. Then, taking a deep breath, he looked around.

The fever had hit fast…and hard. Dean breathed deeply in an attempt to stave off his feelings of panic. Based on the other cases, Sam now had only a few hours left…and Dean had no idea how to help him. The first thing that Dean had to decide was would it be better to go and burn the well in the hopes that that would destroy whatever was behind the maggots or was it better to stay with Sam. Dean bit his lip as he pondered that decision, but in the end, the best hope for Sam would be to destroy the well. Dean looked down at his brother, "Sam?"

Sam laid still in his seat, beads of sweat rolling off his head, his breath clearly visible in the cold mountain air. Dean crouched down and shook his brother, Sam's tired eyes opened blearily. "Sammy?"

Sam's head rolled in Dean's direction and Dean continued, "Listen, I'm going to burn the well to get rid of whatever's causing this ok?"

Sam shook his head and closed his eyes, "The pipe's still hooked up to the house…"

Dean slammed his fist into the doorframe, "I don't give a shit about the damn house Sam. You're gonna die in a few hours if I can't get this thing. If the house burns then it burns…" And with that, Dean slammed the door shut.

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_And thus begins the Sam angst…to all those who are wishin' it was Dean, there's still more of that to come! In the meantime...Review! Uh...please...  
_


	14. The 'Gift'

_Hi all, welcome back! This is a very long chapter and the next one will be very short. A lot of things happen in this one and hopefully by the end of it, everything should make sense, if not ask me and I'll explain. Happy reading! Oh! And before I forget! Congratulations to the three people (and anyone else that didn't share) who figured out that the title was a HUGE clue!_

_Once again, thank you, thank you, thank you all for continuing to read and review! It makes me SO happy to know that people are enjoying this!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Aw! That was so nice! I wouldn't mind that myself, lol. But something tells me it ain't gonna happen…  
**Spuffyshipper: **I'm just keeping my fingers crossed. I think I'll actually cry if the show gets cancelled.  
**Lola**: Yeah, angry Sam is quite a hottie…then again, so is hurt Sam. And Dean? Well, I think it's safe to say that he couldn't NOT be hot no matter what… ;0)  
**Fiona: **Wow! That was such a nice and long review! And yet again, I'm blushing. Thanks for the hug! The website didn't come through, ffnet pulls websites from reviews and stories…  
**Brokenwind: **Lol…You're welcome? As for the ghost, we never will really find out what their true intentions are, that's left up to interpretation._

* * *

**Chapter 14: The 'Gift'**

A short while later, Dean was back at the original well, gas can and flame-thrower in hand. The job would be more difficult without Sam's help, but Dean had more than enough determination behind him to make up for Sam's missing presence.

It took a bit of maneuvering and manpower, but after a few minutes, Dean was able to loosen the wedge in the hole on the side of the well. He hadn't removed the wedge yet and buzzing could be heard from the other side of the brisk wall. The timing would be tricky. Somehow, Dean had to get the gas can into the hole before any flies flew out.

Dean stared at the embedded chisel. Even with the gas can right next to the hole, ready to go, Dean doubted that he'd be fast enough to get the nozzle in before the flies flew out. Overwhelmed with a need to get the burning done and a fear of making things worse, Dean stared at the chisel…feeling more and more defeated as the moments ticked by.

Suddenly, Dean felt a something hit the back of leg. Looking up from his prone position along the side of the well, Dean saw a sick, but standing, Sam hovering above him. Sam smiled down at him while brandishing a flame-thrower. "I figured you'd need a hand."

Dean nodded and looked back to the chisel. Putting one hand on the chisel and the other on the gas can, Dean called back to his brother, "You ready Sammy?"

The weak voice answered from behind, "Make this fast Dean…"

Dean heard the statement…Sam was _barely _functioning. With a quick nod, Dean pulled out the chisel and shoved the gas can into the hole. Once the can was in, he immediately started pouring.

Four flies had escaped when the chisel was removed. Two died mid air, brought down by Sam's flame-thrower. The other two landed on Dean, one by his right eye, the other on his left arm. "Sam, I got two on me."

Moving over to his brother's side, Sam grabbed the fly off of Dean's face by his wings. Then, pulling a lighter out of Dean's pocket, Sam quickly lit the fly. The other fly, which had flown onto Dean's ear in the meantime was also plucked and then fried. Exhausted, Sam stepped back and waited for Dean to finish pouring.

Once the gas can was empty, Dean looked over at Sam, who readied the flame-thrower. "Dean…you'd better step back right away, we don't know how fast the gas'll catch."

Dean nodded, moved to the side, and still holding the gas can, stood up. With another look at Sam, Dean quickly pulled the gas can from the hole in the well and jumped back. As soon as Dean was out of the way, Sam ignited the flame-thrower, aiming directly at the hole. A stream of gas coated flies flew out of the well, but all were caught in the stream of fire that had been aimed at the well.

The hole, and the gas inside it ignited quickly and blue/white flames shot out of the well. Red burning flies flew in all directions, more and more flying out of the well and hitting the ground as miniature bombs. With the burning flies swarming all around, Dean grabbed the chisel from the ground and quickly wedged it back into the hole. Thus ending the stream of flies.

With a hand at his head, Sam spoke to his brother, "Dean, the fire might need the oxygen from the hole."

Dean shook his head, "There's enough in there to burn what needs to burn."

With the well closed up, the brothers looked around. The last of the flies were dropping…well, like flies, leaving burnt patches of grass in their wake. Overhead, a flash of light lit the sky, followed by a large clap of thunder. A strong wind rustled through the trees, sending a chill through the air.

Dean looked up at the sky just as the rain was released. Large drops of cold rain fell, hitting the ground with thousands of tiny splashes. Between the rain and Sam's fever, Dean knew he wouldn't be able to check the inside of the well for the rest of the day. He could only hope that the fire they had set would be enough to destroy whatever it was that was behind the evil maggots.

Gathering the gas-can and flame-thrower from the ground, Dean looked over at his brother…and watched Sam fall onto his hands and knees. Immediately, Dean dropped the gas-can and flame-thrower and walked over to his brother. Wrapping his arms around Sam's back, Dean pulled his brother back into a kneeling position. Then, moving to Sam's front, Dean crouched in front of his brother. "Sam?"

Sam stared back in a daze and Dean wasn't sure that he had even been heard over the wind and the rain. Another flash of light lit the sky and Dean watched as tiny shivers pulsed through Sam's skin. "Ok, time to get you back into the car."

Dean put his hands under Sam's armpits and lifted his brother into a standing position. Unable to hold his own weight, Sam tipped forward, laying his forehead in the crook of Dean's neck. Even with the cold rain pounding down on them, Dean could feel the heat of Sam's fever rolling in waves off his body. In addition, whether from the cold or from the illness, Sam was shaking, his hot breaths coming in short gasps.

Wasting no more time, Dean maneuvered his brother back to the car. Once Sam was inside, Dean collected their gear and drove them both back to the cabin. Sam slept and shivered throughout the car-ride back and Dean tried to fight the worry as he continuously stole glances at his younger brother. The well had most likely been destroyed by the fire and therefore whatever was going on should be over. Dean nodded to himself, Sam had the fever because of the remaining poison, but now that whatever was behind the maggots had been destroyed, Sam would be able to recover…

Pulling the car into the bunkhouse parking lot, Dean slammed his fists into the steering wheel. He had been stupid. He had been INCREDIBLY stupid. Sam was right…had been from the beginning. Dean had been so gun-ho about seeing a Lambton worm, that he hadn't even taken the time to research the girl's story. Not only that, but he had manipulated Sam into being the one to 'create' the worm. Not that that had worked out…but it still came down to the same facts, Sam wouldn't be sick right now if Dean hadn't rushed into this hunt.

Dean slammed his head into his seat and then looked over at his brother. Sam was still in his same position, shivering and sleeping, although now lines of pain were etched on his face. Dean shook his head one more time in guilt and then moved to help Sam out of the car.

Opening Sam's door, Dean ignored the cold raindrops that splashed on his head, and shook his brother awake. Sam's eyes opened, glassy and confused. Slowly Sam looked around as though trying to determine where he was, then, running out of energy, once again his eyes slipped closed. Just as Dean moved to shake him again, Sam's eyes snapped open and he pushed into Dean trying to get out of the car.

Dean fought against his brother, unsure of what had spawned Sam's sudden action. "Sam. Hey. Calm down Sam."

Sam fought back, weak, but desperately trying to get out of the car, "No. I have to help him. Dean needs my help. Let go. I have to help."

Now understanding, Dean crouched in front of Sam and effectively pinned Sam's arms down. Then he spoke to Sam in a soothing tone, "Hey…you helped me Sammy. We already burned the well."

In his confused state, Sam still argued, twisting to get out of his brother's grip. He moaned as he fought, "No. I have to help Dean. He needs my help. Let go of me."

Frustrated, helpless, sad, and full of guilt, Dean gave his brother a hard shake, "Sam!"

Startled at the tone, Sam looked up finally seeing his brother's face. Confusion covered his features, "Dean?"

With a slight smile Dean nodded. Sam continued to stare at him, "Dean? I don't…" Then Sam looked around. With a look of uncertainty and helplessness he turned back to Dean. "Dean?"

Dean took a breath to calm himself. Based on how out of it Sam was, his fever had to be pretty high. The situation wasn't looking good. Dean helped his brother out of the car and then threw one of Sam's arms over his shoulder. Slowly and cautiously, Dean led his brother through the rain and the mud and into the cabin.

Once they were in the cabin, Dean brought Sam over to his bed. Then he went over and pulled dried clothes out of his brother's bag. "Sam…"

Still seated where Dean placed him, Sam stared blankly into space. With a sigh Dean walked over and placed the dry clothes on his brother's wet lap. Sam looked up at him through his wet plastered bangs.

"Sam, put these on."

Dean waited for movement or understanding, but Sam just continued to look at him blankly. Dean closed his eyes and took another breath. Then he felt Sam's forehead. He hadn't needed to, Sam's dazed look already gave him a good indication of how sick he was, the hand on the forehead had only confirmed it. Dean opted out of the thermometer…he didn't want to know the numbers.

Realizing that Sam wasn't going to be able to undress himself, Dean crouched down and unzippered his brother's jacket. Then he helped Sam out of the coat, one arm at a time. Desperately he tried to ignore the memories pushing their way into his brain. Memories of snowy days, snowball fights, and then Dean helping Sam out of his snow-crusted snowsuit, leaving it to drip dry in the shower.

With the coat finally gone, Dean moved onto unbuttoning Sam's flannel shirt. The shirt wasn't overly soaked, which meant that Sam could leave his undershirt and Dean would be off the hook from completely undressing his brother. Sam sat quietly and watched as Dean unbuttoned each button. Noticing that he was being watched, Dean looked up at his brother, "I'm calling _this_ off limits dude. Not that you could use this anyway…makes you look just as bad as it does me."

With the shirt now removed, Dean leaned back and looked at his brother's face. Sam hadn't said a word since entering the cabin. "Hey Sammy. You think you could get the pants? This has been way too much contact for me as it is."

Finally showing a glimpse of understanding, Sam looked down at the button on his jeans and stared. Then, as though the button would take all his physical and mental energy, Sam gave a short exhale. Finally, slowly, Sam moved his shaking fingers over to the button. He pulled up on the material as his cold wet fingers slid over the metal button. Dean watched his brother fiddle with the button for a minute before he had had enough. "Oh for God's sake Sam." Then Dean reached down, pulled up on Sam's jeans, undid the button and the zipper and quickly grabbed Sam's pants by the knees and pulled.

The jeans came off and Sam fell backwards onto the bed, losing his balance at Dean's pull. Without pausing, Dean grabbed the dry pair of shorts he had gotten from Sam's bag and pulled them up to Sam's knees. Then, without warning, Dean grabbed Sam's arms pulling him until he was standing, and pulled the shorts the rest of the way up. Sam wobbled and Dean pushed him back onto the bed. Then Dean changed out of his own clothes.

As Dean hung both their clothes in the bathroom to dry, Sam looked around the cabin. His thinking was foggy, as though completing a thought would be an impossible feat. Thousands of thoughts began in his head, but they all seemed to float away before he could grab onto them. Turning his head, Sam saw the man in the brown suit standing by the fireplace. He knew he had to yell at the man, threaten him and make him go away, but the energy for that seemed to have been drained out of him. At the moment Sam barely had the energy to stay awake.

Upon seeing Sam's eyes, the man in the brown suit smiled comfortingly and walked forward, "Hello Sam."

Sam blinked, drawn into the man's eyes, and the man smiled almost apologetically, "We have a lot to talk about. I know you don't feel well and I'm sincerely sorry for that. In a way, it's my fault that you're ill although I had never intended for that to happen."

Sam stared at the man with curiosity as he stopped walking and sat about three feet away from where Sam was. The man continued his one-way conversation, "First let me formally introduce myself, as you have already surmised, I am Orpheus Wendel…and I know that you are Sam Winchester."

Sam looked somewhat startled and the man gave a small chuckle, "No, your reputation has not preceded you. Although given who you are, I can see why you might have thought that. No, I know your thoughts and memories because the maggots and I are connected. Therefore, I have, in a small way, connected to you through them. That's why you are able to see myself and my followers. They're all frightened of you by the way, and I do believe they should be. I had informed them that your threats were not idle; you are capable of following through."

Finally, Sam seemed to have found his voice. Slowly, he pushed himself back so that he was leaning against the headboard as he spoke, "What do you want?"

"Sam?" Dean walked out of the bathroom, clearly having heard Sam's voice. Sam looked over at his brother, closed his eyes in fatigue, and pointed at the foot of the bed, "Orpheus Wendel."

Dean froze. He had been hoping, regardless of how false the hope may have been, that the well burning would have worked. That the invisible people, the Lambton worms, the maggots, would no longer exist…would no longer be killing Sam. But with Orpheus Wendel's presence, all of Dean's hopes were lost. Unable to think through the burning defeat, Dean turned to his brother, "What's he want?"

Sam answered with his eyes still closed, "I just asked that."

Wendel spoke in answer, "I'm here to offer you a gift."

Sam opened his eyes to look at the ghost as Dean paced in the background, "What's he saying?"

Sam spared a glance for his brother, "Dean…I…I…" Sam's head tipped back and his eyes closed again.

Dean immediately moved over to his brother and Sam opened his eyes, feeling Dean's presence. "I can't Dean. I'll sum it up at the end…"

Dean nodded in understanding although anger and frustration ripped through his bones. Sam didn't have the energy or coherency to repeat everything the ghost said. Dean stomped his way over to his own bed…the man that was behind this whole thing was sitting there, saying God knows what to his brother, and he'd have to sit and wait to find out what was going on…patience was never one of Dean Winchester's strong points. Standing by helplessly while Sam was hurt, was not something Dean Winchester did and yet those were the circumstances, and that was the situation. Wishing that there was something around for him to kill, Dean began unpacking his bag to keep himself busy. He'd keep a close eye on Sam, but he couldn't do _nothing_ while he waited.

With his brother waiting in the wings, Sam turned his attention back to the ghost who stared at him with compassion, "You love your brother." It was a statement, not a question, but Sam nodded anyway.

The ghost nodded and stood up, looking over at Dean. "He loves you too…very much." Then he looked back to Sam, "I was connected with him briefly the other night although I lost the contact when he expelled me completely."

Sam's eye's widened in understanding, "That was you. You were the Lambton worm."

Dean slammed a bottle of herbs down on his bed, "He was what?!"

Sam waved his brother down as Orpheus explained, looking remorseful, "I was given a gift…many, many, years ago. A gift of charm as well as power over death. I had power over my own death, but while I was alive, I had no power to save my loved ones." He looked at Sam, filled with a great sadness, "I had lost my wives, my son…I couldn't stand the pain of it. I'd gladly give my life for my children's happiness…and so I did. I…_arranged_ it so that I could watch over my children and keep them safe and happy."

Once again Orpheus sat down on Sam's bed, "They were Sam. They lived long, healthy, happy lives. Polio swept through this town in the early 1900s, but my grandchildren and great grandchildren…I could keep them safe from it."

Taking a breath, the ghost continued, "I had thought at the time, that I could leave myself a loophole…a way to bring myself back to life, for my children…but by doing so, I abused the power that had been given to me. The only way for me to return is to be 'born' out of the maggots that fed off my bones. Every several decades or so I make an attempt to return, but it seems that my attempts are not always without penalty. I have inadvertently taken the lives of 32 people. It had never been my intent to do so, but it seems that there is no way out of this situation. I cannot die again and the only way to end the maggots is for me to be born of them."

Sam tried to absorb the information through his fuzzy brain. In comparison to the other evil creature and ghosts that he had encountered throughout his life, Orpheus Wendel didn't seem bad. In fact to Sam, he seemed compassionate, almost kind. There was something comforting about his voice, his presence, that built trust. Sam listened as best he could as the ghost continued, "I have tried, as best I can, to offer a gift as an apology to each of the people I have inadvertently harmed. I can give you the same gift that had been given me…I can give you the power, in your death, to keep your loved ones safe…from all harm."

Sam blinked and pushed back against the headboard, his mind exploring what he was being offered. Orpheus stood up from his seat on the bed and crouched down in front of Sam. He spoke in a soft, caring tone, "This power is above the demon Sam. It won't hurt him…it _can't_ hurt him if you accept my offer. He can get married, have children and the demon can't touch them. It won't even be able to send a wind in their direction."

Tears slid down Sam's cheeks as he pictured the life that Dean could have. A life, that as long as Sam was around, Dean could never have. It would never be safe enough for those dreams to become a reality. When Sam had left for college, he hadn't realized that. He had foolishly thought that if he didn't _look_ for trouble, aka hunt, then he'd be safe from it. His father and brother had understood, all along, that that wasn't the case. Evil was out there, whether you looked for it or not, and in Sam's case, it was hunting _him_…and Dean by association. Dean would never be able to have a child because the evil that was out there would hunt that child down. Dean would be a great husband…and father. A fact that Sam knew from experience having been partially raised by Dean himself. Sam remembered his father's wish for Dean…for Dean to have a home. With Orpheus' offer, Dean could have all those things, a home and a family- and after everything, didn't Sam owe Dean that?

Orpheus spoke on, "This isn't a sacrifice. Unfortunately, you will die whether you accept my offer or not, I am just trying to give you the same opportunity that was given me. I've been inside both of you Sam. I know that you have never felt safe…and…Sam, I know that Dean remembers what it was like, to have a family, to feel safe. The memory burns him Sam. He doesn't discuss it; he doesn't want to hurt you; he's afraid that you would blame yourself…and you would. But he wants that life back. He's been hanging on to a thread of hope that your father gave him when he was five. You father told him that you'd all be a family again, you'd all have a home again, once he killed the thing that had hurt mommy. That's what has been killing him. He believed that…his whole life he believed it. He held onto it. When you left for college, it slipped a little, but he still held onto that hope. When your father died…that thread of hope was cut…"

"…He's been itching for an ending Sam. You heard it in the clinic when you had been infected. He has no more hope left; he doesn't believe he can ever have the family and the safety that he's been trying to get back for the past 23 years. You could give it to him. It may not be in the form he expected, he'd be a father, not a son, but he could have the family and the safety."

Sam nodded, tears streaking his face. Noticing his brother's tears, Dean walked over to the bed, crouching in the same space as Orpheus. Anger filled his features, "Sam? What's he doing? Tell me what's going on! Why are you crying?"

Sam looked into his brother's eyes, filled with guilt for ruining Dean's life.

Orpheus moved out of Dean's space, "He wouldn't want you to think that Sam. His little brother is part of the family of four he's always been trying to get back. He doesn't blame you at all. His blame lies solely with the demon."

Sam ignored his brother and looked up at the ghost, "What do I have to do?"

"For what?" Dean grabbed his brother by the shoulder's forcing Sam to look at him, "What do you have to do for what Sam? Tell me what he said…now."

Sam looked at his brother with barely enough energy to hold up his head. He was going to die, and his heart broke to leave Dean alone…without anyone. But if he accepted Orpheus' offer, he could make sure that that didn't last. He could stay with Dean in death; make sure Dean recovered from his grief.

Orpheus spoke again, "This isn't the same as becoming a ghost Sam. The years on this Earth will not torment you; you won't be a lost soul. This is different…entirely…I wish I could explain it better. The best that I can do is to say that I was given this gift from a power beyond demons and angels and reapers…this supercedes all of them. I was not born in the 1800s. I was _created_ many, many, many, centuries before that…"

Sam's eyes widened again although his neck lost the energy to hold his head up. Due to his quick reflexes, Dean was able to catch his brother as Sam fell forward. Slowly, Sam's head slid down until it was resting against Dean's neck. With incredible gentleness Dean rearranged his brother so that Sam was lying flat on his bed.

From his prone position, Sam closed his eyes and pointed to the ghost, "You're _the_ Orpheus. The one from Greek mythology."

Dean spun around in shock, staring at the air where Sam had pointed, "What?!"

Orpheus nodded, "I am. I have told you everything now and so I will leave you to privacy with your brother. You may give me your decision at any time, I will hear you, and it will be final. Just speak out loud if you would like to accept or decline my gift, but you must make your decision quickly. Your time is growing short. It was nice to have met you Sam Winchester, and again, I am truly sorry for the situation that I have brought upon you." And with that, Orpheus Wendel disappeared.

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_I know another pseudo-cliffie... what happens is already set in stone, but if you've got any opinions, I'd love to hear 'em... _


	15. The Answer

_Hi all! Once again, thank you all so much for continuing to stick with this story! And to those of you who reviewed- you really made me smile. I love receiving each review. Thank you SO much!_

_It's a bit of a short chapter tonight, but I felt that it needed to stand alone. Have no worries, I'll update again in about two days…_

_**Spuffyshipper: **This soon enough? Sammy'll get a bit more angsty…and take his brother down with him.  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Lol…that was cute…and I'm sorry that Orpheus didn't impress you, or should I say, he's sorry that he didn't impress you.  
**Brokenwind: **I'm so not telling! You have to read and find out! But I agree, poor Sam and poor Dean!  
**Fiona: **I'm so glad that you enjoyed that chapter…but beware, they're going to get a lot sadder than that…  
**Lola**: Lol…you're funny…'it speaks'…yes, it most certainly did. Sorry your nose is stinging, but you've got good instincts!_

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**Chapter 15: The answer**

Slowly Sam opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. Dean was hovering over his bed, a look of distressed panic covering his features. Sam felt grief penetrate his heart as he became more aware that Dean would be in for one of the worst nights of his life…and he'd be alone. "Dean?"

Dean visibly relaxed at the sound of Sam's voice, allowing himself to sit on the edge of Sam's bed. "What's he saying?"

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing for more energy. "He's gone…left."

Dean reached over, touching Sam's arm with his hand. "Sam…what'd he say? What got you upset?"

Sam sighed. He was running out of energy…and time. His entire body screamed for sleep, but he had told Dean that he'd sum it up…Sam debated whether he even should. Dean was _not_ going to take that conversation well. Still, it was probably important that Dean knew what he was in for, and that Sam would literally always be around…watching over him.

With another sigh, Sam opened his eyes and stared at his brother. Dean's own eyes met his and for the first time that today Sam could _see_ Dean's fear. Briefly Sam wondered if it had always been there and he hadn't seen it, or if it had just surfaced. "Dean…" Sam took another breath, this wouldn't be easy, "…he said that I'm going to die. There's no way to stop it."

With a swift movement, Dean stood up, "That's bullshit."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed again; he didn't have the energy to argue. Ignoring his brother's denial, Sam quickly summed up his conversation with Orpheus Wendel in as much detail as possible. When he had finished, he used his remaining strength to open his eyes and see Dean's reaction.

Dean stood at the side of the bed wearing an expression that Sam would have sworn he had never seen in his life. Dean was completely unreadable; his thoughts an enigma. What Dean was feeling, Sam couldn't tell, but the intensity of the feelings…from his position two feet away (1 m) from Dean, Sam could feel the emotion, like heat, radiating from his brother. Dean remained silent, but his eyes…his whole body vibrated with an intensity that Sam had never witnessed.

The silence and the emotion awakened Sam just a little bit, enough to open his eyes fully as he waited for Dean's response. It took over a minute, but finally Dean's spoke. In contrast to the intense emotion exuding from his body, Dean's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, "Sam…"

Sam laid still, the silence blaring as he waited for more. Dean sat down on Sam's bed. Their eyes met and Sam recoiled from the desperation in Dean's eyes. It was literally painful to look at. Dean moved closer and soon all of Sam's vision was overtaken by the pain in his brother's eyes. "That man is evil."

Sam shook his head to argue, but Dean cut him off, "He is. He doesn't seem like it because he has the power to charm."

Sam forced in his argument, "He wasn't lying Dean…we saw what happened with Charlotte. They really do have the power to save the people they care about."

Anger flashed through Dean's eyes as he argued back, "Sam…that man killed 32 people. He told you that himself…what you're talking about…it's unnatural. It's evil."

Gradually Dean stood up as his voice rose in volume, "You don't mess with death. You…do not…mess…with death. You don't! You don 't make deals with demons; you don't bind reapers; you don't make deals with ghosts! You don't deal with the devil! Why the HELL don't you people understand that! You don't DO IT! These are your SOULS that you're talking about!"

Tears began to escape as Dean continued his argument, "You're talking about your _soul_ Sam. In trade for what?! You know what it? It doesn't matter! NOTHING is worth your eternal soul! NOTHING!"

Overcome with emotion, Dean turned his back to his brother to regain his composure. Taken back by Dean's outburst, Sam laid quietly, watching his brother's back as it shook. After a few moments, Sam saw his brother begin to calm. As Dean got himself under control, Sam spoke, "Dean…I'm not making a deal with the devil…or the demon. And I'm not trading anything. I'm going to die anyway. I'm just accepting a gift that would allow me to help you get the family you always wanted."

Dean scoffed and turned back around, interrupting his brother, "The family I always wanted?" Dean gave a heartless laugh, "I think this…" Dean motioned over Sam's bed with his hand, "…this is about as far from the family I've always wanted as we could possibly get Sam. Sam, YOU are all that's left of the family I've always wanted. That family's gone and it's not coming back."

Sam took a breath and tried again, "Dean, you could have a new family. You could have kids…and the demon wouldn't be able to touch them. You'd be safe Dean; you'd never have to worry."

Dean nodded, "And what happens to you?"

Sam shrugged, "I'd be here…watching over your family and descendents…"

Dean nodded again, "Forever?"

Sam agreed, "I guess…"

Dean gave a frustrated, grief-stricken grin, "So your soul gets to spend eternity trapped here on Earth so that I can get a good 50 years in. Sounds like an even trade to me…"

Sam shook his head, unable to see the bad side of the deal…if he was going to die anyway? "Dean, I'm going to die either way. At least this way I could make sure that you'd be safe."

Dean threw up his arms ion frustration, "What the hell is safe, Sam? What the hell does that even mean? My entire family will be dead…the world will still be filled with evil…and not one of the people that I cared about…grew up with…" Dean's voiced hitched as the tears once again threatened to break though, "…not one of them would have found peace. Mom is obliterated, Dad's spending eternity being tortured in Hell, and you'd be trapped on Earth until some hunter came along and ended this thing, sending you down to Hell because that's where people go when they make unnatural deals with evil!"

For the first time, Sam began to rethink Orpheus' proposal. He had expected Dean to be unhappy, to argue, but he had expected the argument to be related to Dean not wanting other people making sacrifices for him…so far Dean's arguments had been more about…morality. Sam thought back…Orpheus had seemed sincere, but had his power of charm caused Sam to overlook the morality of the offer?

Sam's thoughts were interrupted as his bed dipped under Dean's weight. Looking over, Sam saw Dean looking at him, serious but composed. "Sam…_please_, _PLEASE_…I couldn't talk to dad…he didn't tell me what he was planning, but I'm begging you Sam. _Please_…" Dean's voice broke and Sam felt his own tears leak from his eyes, "Don't do it…for me Sammy. Please. I'm asking you, tell him no. _If_ you die, which I'm not letting that happen, but _if_ you die, I need to know that you're in Heaven. I _need_ that Sammy. Please…one person that I…_one_ person has to be at peace. Sam, please…"

Sam whispered back to his brother, "Dean…you don't believe in Heaven."

Dean nodded, meeting Sam's eyes, "I will if you're there…"

Sam didn't speak and Dean quietly continued, "This isn't right Sam. What you're talking about is no different than what Sue Ann did when she bound the reaper to save her husband's life. Death sucks…evil sucks…but you can't go around making deals to try to escape it. You have to face it, deal with it, and then move on and hope that you don't lose yourself in the process. You're not going to die Sammy. I don't give a shit what that dead Greek asshole said. I will find a way to fix this…I promise you."

Sam looked serious, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Dean met Sam's stare…a little late for that advice. There already _was_ a promise hanging over his head that he may not be able to keep. But that wasn't _this_ promise. "I don't." After a moment, Dean spoke again, "Tell him 'no' Sam. Please…"

Sam stared at his brother, he still wasn't entirely sure. His ability to think had been all but eliminated by the fever. The deal had seemed like a good one, but Dean had seemed genuinely unhappy with it…and not just self-sacrificing unhappy. Sam didn't know what the right answer was, but he knew that he had to make the decision while he was still conscious…and he knew that above all else, he trusted Dean. "Orpheus?" Sam closed his eyes and with a deep breath, praying he was doing the right thing, he finished. "I decline your gift."

Slowly Sam opening his eyes, fearing that he had made the wrong decision, given up a chance to protect his brother from the evil that he had brought upon him. But one look at Dean's face and any possible regrets flew out the window. Dean's relief was palpable, radiating from his body in the same intensity as his desperation and helplessness had before. Sam's judgment was correct, Dean _truly_ hadn't wanted Sam to accept the gift.

With a small smile, Sam nodded towards his brother's face. Referring to the tears, he smirked, "I'd say this makes it three-two."

Dean grinned and nodded. Then he used his finger to wipe one of Sam's tears from his face, "Three-three…asshole."

Sam grinned and closed his eyes. The conversation had taken everything out of him, "Dean…if you're gonna save my ass, you better hurry up."

Becoming serious, Dean stood up and nodded, "Right."

With a last effort, Sam opened his eyes, "Dean. Orpheus said that he was connecting to me through the maggots. It's still in me…find the maggot." With that said, Sam lost his battle with consciousness.

Looking down at his brother, Dean ran a hand threw his hair and drew in a deep breath. Overwhelmed didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling. The terror that had coursed through his body when Sam had told him what he was planning had done damage. He didn't know how or what to do about it, but he could still feel it; the desperate helplessness that he had felt when he pleaded with Sam to tell Orpheus 'no'. If Sam had accepted Orpheus' gift, Dean was fairly sure that he would have died of grief right there on the spot. What he had told Sam was true. It would be his worst nightmare…his own personal hell to know that all of the people he loved would never find peace for all of eternity. Dean shook his head. He honestly couldn't understand why…why _anyone_ would consider trading their _eternal soul_ in exchange for a _life_. That deal was so skewed it was sickening; eternity in trade for one to fifty years…Dean shook his head again. There was no time for this. He had a job to do…and a maggot to find.

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_I know it was short, but like I said, I'll try to update quickly...in the meantime, if you're enjoying this, review and let me know!_


	16. Healing Sam

_Minor Warning: This chapter is semi-graphic (much less so than chapter 11 and still rated T) and contains some blood and gore. Unfortunately, the details included in it are very important, so it's difficult to summarize. If you would like to skip this chapter, PM me and I'll send you a summary._

_I just want to thank all of you for the incredible response I got to the last chapter. I'm relieved that many of you felt it was in character and not overly sappy. Hopefully you'll feel the same about this chapter.  
**ScifiGirl: **Welcome back! As for the maggot…that's Dean's job to find it…hopefully he will…  
**Desertangel: **Thanks for reviewing! And I'm so glad to know that this little story's entertaining you!  
**Spuffyshipper: **Yep, done that lots of times…it's very frustrating. Fortunately, I managed to keep the mood for this chapter (I think)  
**Lola**: Lol…those are great sayings…I feel like I should be putting them up on my wall! And I agree with your take on Dean- I think he's got very clear morals.  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Lol…well, there wasn't much else that Sam could do, but yeah- I don't envy Dean here…  
**Brokenwind: **Once again, so not saying (although this time more because I'm not actually sure myself as to Orpheus' evil status). I'm glad you liked Dean's speech.  
**Fiona: **I'm happy to entertain you as you wait for the show. I think if I lived in England I'd have to move here 'cause I wouldn't be able to wait for episodes…I give you a lot of credit.  
**Anon: **Well, thanks…I'm actually very relieved that you liked that chapter. I know the Sam angst fans always complain that there's not enough of hurt!Sam on the show, and then the Dean angst fans complain that there's too much protective!Dean on the show…At this point, I just watch the show happily and then fill in my need for hugging (my only complaint with the show) with the fanfiction. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter as well, even though it's high on the Sam angst. However, this (or rather last chapter) was really the beginning of hurt!Dean, it's just hard to see it because it's developing, and Sam's unconscious…but Dean's not going to be doing so well after this chapter…not for a long time…_

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**Chapter 16: Healing Sam**

Starting at Sam's feet, Dean carefully scanned both of his brother's legs using his hands in addition to his eyes. It took over ten minutes per leg, and in the end, there was no maggot to be found. Moving on, Dean lifted his brother into a sitting position and removed Sam's sweat drenched undershirt. Then, as he had done with the legs, Dean scrutinized every inch of Sam's arm, hands, shoulders, back, chest, neck, face, and head. Still there was nothing.

Dean sat back and stared at his comatose brother. If he had to check ALL of Sam, then he would, it would be awkward later on, but he could deal better with awkwardness than grief. However, before removing his brother's shorts, Dean took a moment to evaluate Sam's condition. Sam was covered in sweat, an intense heat radiating from his body. From his position sitting on the edge of Sam's bed, Dean could literally see is brother's heart rapidly beating in his chest. Concerned, Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and took his pulse…it was over 140 beats per minute…definitely not good…if Sam wasn't cooled off, there wouldn't be time to find the maggot.

Quickly, Dean grabbed Sam's undershirt and laid it over his brother. Then he grabbed a bottle of spring water and poured the cold water over the shirt. Sam gasped and immediately began shivering. The shivering wasn't good, it would mean expelling more energy, but Sam HAD to be cooled down immediately and if medicine wouldn't help, hopefully the more old fashion treatments would.

Wanting to cool Sam down even more, Dean ran over to his brother's bag to get another shirt to lie over Sam's legs. Looking through the bag, Dean quickly spied a white undershirt shirt and pulled on it…the material stretched but the shirt didn't move. Dean pulled on the shirt again, but just as before, the shirt didn't come free…it was stuck. Frustrated and loosing time, Dean yelled at the bag and yanked the shirt as hard as he could. A ripping sound was heard and the shirt flew out of the bag, carrying a small black object with it. The object landed next to Sam and immediately began beeping and clicking.

For a moment Dean stood…staring at the EMF meter that had landed next to Sam. He had made that EMF meter. What it was doing in _Sam's_ bag and why it was going off…those were complete mysteries. Dean had last seen the meter when he had used it to find the invisible people. It had failed to detect anything then, so why would it be going off now?

Dean processed this question before coming to a shocking realization…Dean dropped the undershirt…was it possible that the maggots gave off EMF?

Cautiously, Dean reached over and picked up the EMF meter. Sure enough, when he moved the reader away from his brother's body, the beeping stopped. Biting his lip, afraid to hope, Dean brought the meter to his brother's foot…nothing. Slowly Dean traveled up Sam's body with the meter. As Dean approached Sam's right knee, the meter began it's beeping; passing the knee, the beeping stopped. Dean scanned the full area of the knee noting that the EMF readings were stronger in the back of Sam's knee.

Gathering his equipment (box cutter, holy water, antiseptic, bandages, etc.), Dean carefully rolled his brother over and felt the back of Sam's knee. It was VERY difficult to feel anything abnormal, but knowing that the maggot had to be in that area, Dean concentrated fully and felt around. Finally, after a few minutes, Dean was fairly sure that he felt a hard lump in one area of the knee.

Quickly sterilizing the box cutter, Dean cut into Sam's skin where he believed the maggot to be. His efforts were rewarded. Inside the incision, Dean could make out the dull gray maggot lying in his brother's flesh. The maggot seemed different than the previous ones and as Dean pulled it out, he realized why. This maggot was dead. It had never begun its metamorphosis; instead it appeared to have been rotting inside Sam. Dean made a face…he didn't know which was more disgusting, the live maggots or the dead ones.

Not examining that thought too much further, Dean pulled out his lighter and burned the dead maggot just in case. Then, he doused the back of Sam's knee with holy water. Sam moaned and kicked as the holy water met the wound and sizzled. With an apology to Sam, Dean held his brother's leg still and poured more. "It's okay Sammy. Relax. It'll be over in a minute."

Whether Sam heard him or not was difficult to tell, but gradually Sam's kicks and moans died down and the wound stopped its sizzling. As Dean bandaged his brother's leg, he considered the dead maggot. How would a _dead_ maggot be connected to Orpheus? But then, how would a dead maggot give off EMF? Was it possible that there were even more maggots? "You've got to be kidding me? How many freakin' things could have crawled under your skin Sammy?"

Shaking his head, Dean once again picked up the EMF meter. Slowly and carefully, Dean scanned upwards over his brother's body. As he approached Sam's head, the beeping once again picked up. Moving the meter around Sam's neck, Dean determined that there was another maggot under his brother's chin. Carefully, Dean rolled his overheated, sweat drenched brother onto his back. Dean cringed as once again he caught site of Sam's heart rapidly beating within his chest.

Taking a deep breath, Dean began probing the area below Sam's chin, hoping to find the maggot. Unfortunately, due to the location, feeling anything was nearly impossible. Every time Dean pushed in on his brother's skin, all the tissue in that area just moved up towards Sam's mouth thereby making it impossible to feel anything within the tissue. There was only one way to remedy that obstacle…Dean had to put one finger into Sam's mouth as he pushed up with the other hand. This way, he'd be able to feel the maggot between his two fingers.

With a sigh, Dean looked down at his brother. "Sorry bout this Sammy, but if it makes you feel better, at least my hands are clean…"

Then, making a face, Dean opened his brother's mouth and stuck his right pointer finger inside. Sam showed no reaction as Dean probed both sides of the bottom of his mouth. For over three minutes Dean probed his mouth, feeling several 'lumps', but not knowing which was a gland and which was a maggot. All the lumps felt round, none appeared to be oval.

The task was frustrating. Sam was _dying_, Dean knew the _general_ area that the maggot was in, and yet he still couldn't find the maggot. Suddenly, the bump that Dean was currently exploring moved…in a way that was DEFINITELY not natural. "Finally…"

Dean began taking his finger out of Sam's mouth when, without warning, Sam's body arched up, becoming completely stiff. In the process, Sam's mouth bit down…hard. Dean grimaced and yelled in pain as his brother's teeth cut into his finger. The pain was considerable and soon Dean could see his blood pooling around his brother's teeth. Not only had Sam broken the skin, but based on the amount of pain…and blood, Dean was fairly sure that Sam had bitten down to the bone. A concern of having his finger _entirely_ bit off flashed through Dean's mind, but that concern was quickly replaced by his concern for Sam.

Sam's body was pulled taught as it arched over the bed. As Dean watched, Sam remained completely still and rigid. Slowly his face was turning red and the edges of his lips (the parts not covered in Dean's blood), took on a blue tinge. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed his brother's right arm moving in a repetitive jerking motion. He had never seen one before, but Dean was sure that he was looking at a seizure. It wasn't like the ones he had read about; those had been described as violent shaking, the whole body spasming, etc. _This_ seizure, seemed to be the exact opposite as Sam was completely unmoving, other than the one arm. Still, despite the discrepancy between what he had read and what he was seeing, there was no doubt in Dean's mind as to what was going on.

Dean's main concern was Sam's breathing. Clearly he wasn't. It seemed all of Sam's muscles, with the exception of his arm, were in a frozen state. Fear momentarily fled through Dean as he acknowledged the fact that a heart is a muscle. However, one look at his brother's elevated chest let him know that Sam's heart was thankfully still beating…too rapidly…but it _was_ beating. Sam's neck was pulled back, his head at a 90 degree angle with his neck. Ignoring his own pain, Dean moved his left hand over to his brother's chest and began rubbing over the sternum in an attempt to help Sam relax as well as encourage him to breathe. If Sam was having a seizure, it was unlikely that there was anything Dean could do to help, but he couldn't do nothing.

Thankfully, not more than two minutes after Sam's seizure began, it abruptly stopped. All of Sam's muscles seemed to simultaneously relax and his body bounced back down onto the bed. Immediately Dean pulled his bloody finger out of his brother's mouth and wrapped a nearby bandage around it to stop the blood flow. Simultaneously, he watched Sam's chest to make sure that he was breathing. The breaths were shallow and quick, but they were there.

Urgency overwhelmed Dean's senses. Unwilling to wait longer, Dean made a thin cut across the underside of his brother's chin. Then, he dipped Sam's head back, pried apart the two sides of the cut skin and looked. On the right side of the incision, Dean could see a wing and two legs flapping around within the tissue. With his left hand, Dean reached over and pulled on the legs and wing. Slowly the fly's body emerged from Sam's flesh. When almost half of the fly's body had been pulled out, the remainder of the fly slid out in one quick motion.

Not expecting the remainder of the fly to come out so quickly, Dean momentarily lost his grip on the bloody creature. The fly took the opportunity to turn back around and begin burrowing its way into the palm of Dean's left hand.

"Son of a bitch!"

Quickly, Dean grabbed the lighter out of his pocket and using his damaged right hand, brought a flame up to the fly. The fly immediately caught fire, partially embedded into Dean's palm. Dean cringed as the fire hit his hand. Finally the dead insect released its grip and plummeted to the ground, leaving a burnt hole in the center of Dean's hand.

Dean's hands were shaking, his breath beginning to match his brother's. A feeling of cold surrounded him as his brain slowly recognized that he was going into shock. It was emotional, Dean had no doubt of that. His last conversation with Sam still held close to the surface of his mind. His right pointer finger was immobile, bit down to the bone. His left hand was burnt. Sam had had a seizure. He had pulled a dead maggot and a live fly out of his brother. A dead Greek God was manifesting himself into maggot-filled Lambton worms. Sam was dying. His father was in Hell. A demon was out there, constantly chasing them down. All of his worries, fears, pains, all of it simultaneously came crashing down, laying a weight so heavy that it literally knocked Dean off of the bed.

Dean sat next to the bed shaking…he wasn't finished. He still had to pour holy water over Sam's wound as well as his own wound. He still had to scan the rest of Sam's head for more maggots. He still had to cut them out if there _wer_e more maggots. And even after all that, it might be too late…Sam may have too much poison in him at this point. Dean closed his eyes, his breaths coming in quick gasps. The cold covered his body, causing him to shiver. Then, angrily, Dean shook his head. There wasn't time for this. Sam was dying. He had a job to do.

With a burst of adrenaline driven energy, Dean stood up and turned back towards the bed. Quickly, he grabbed the holy water and poured it over his hand. The water steamed and burned…and that fly had just barely gotten into him… After his own wound was supernatural-free, Dean poured holy water over his brother's wound.

As soon as the water hit the cut, Sam's body arched. His head hit the headboard of the bed as he gasped and cried out in pain. Dean pushed Sam's body back down and looked at his brother's face. Sam's eyes remained closed, but tears began dripping from the outer corners of Sam's eyes. Then the sound came.

The holy water still steamed and therefore still burned and it was clear that Sam was feeling it. With every gasp of breath, a cry was heard. Sam was crying in pain. The tears leaking out from his brother's eyes, accompanied by the sound of Sam's crying, broke Dean's dam. Silently joining his brother, tears began dripping from Dean's own eyes. Using the back of his left hand, Dean rubbed his brother's arm as much to give himself comfort as to give it to Sam. Gradually, the steaming stopped and Dean ceased his pouring of the water.

Pulling himself together, Dean began dressing his brother's wound, as well as his own. After that, without pausing to acknowledge ANY feelings, Dean picked up the EMF meter and scanned the rest of his brother's head. Thankfully, there was nothing. Unwilling to take any chances, Dean did a second scan over his brother's body. Once again, there was nothing.

Dropping the EMF meter, Dean looked back at his brother. Nothing had changed. Not that he had expected an instantaneous healing, but he would have liked to have seen _something_ that could give him hope that the poison was no longer doing damage. Dean shook his head, if the poison was in Sam's blood, would removing the maggots and cleaning the wounds be enough? Then Dean froze having a possible idea…if the holy water cleaned the poison from the wounds, would it be possible for it to clean the poison from _inside_ Sam as well?

Dean shrugged, either way Sam had to drink. Based on the height of the fever and the amount Sam had been sweating, Dean knew that his brother was facing dehydration. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

Grabbing a fresh bottle of holy water from his bag, Dean walked over to his brother's side. Carefully, Dean pulled Sam into a sitting position before moving behind him. Then he slowly guided Sam back so that Sam was seated, leaning against his chest. Using his right hand, Dean held his brother's head still as his left hand brought the bottled holy water to Sam's lips. In small increments the water was poured into his brother's upturned mouth and a gentle massage of Sam's neck encouraged him to swallow it down.

As Sam swallowed the first bit of water, he immediately began moaning and squirming. Despite hearing his brother's pain, Dean found himself somewhat hopeful. If the holy water was causing Sam pain, then it might be having an effect…it might be counteracting the poison.

Slowly Dean poured more water down his brother's throat. Once again he was rewarded with Sam's sobs. As before, Dean found his heart breaking at the sound of his brother's pain. Putting down the holy water for a minute, Dean ran a hand over the top of his brother's head. "Hey Sammy, it's okay. You're going to be fine. I promised you...and you know how much it'd piss me off if you made me break a promise. I'd have to kick your ass..." Then Dean wrapped his right arm around his brother in a hug and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry… please Sam, I need you to stop."

Sam was unconscious, so Dean was surprised and unnerved when Sam immediately stopped sobbing. Was it possible that Sam had heard him? Dean picked up the water bottle, resuming his holy water treatment as he shook his head confused. That's why he had been talking to Sam after all, to comfort him. So he must have known that Sam could hear him… Still, Dean found it disconcerting that Sam was aware enough to not only hear Dean, but also to comply with his request to stop crying. But, as more holy water was coaxed down Sam's throat, it was apparent that Sam _had_ heard his brother. Tears still flowed and his body still squirmed, but for the most part, Sam's sobs remained silent…and Dean was grateful.

After half the bottle had been emptied and Sam's movements and tears had ceased, Dean put down the bottle and caringly laid his brother back down on the bed. _This time_ when Dean looked over his brother's condition, he saw a difference. The red patches on Sam's skin were gone. Sam's breathing was deeper, calmer, and considerably less sporadic. Sam's heartbeat was no longer visible through his chest. Dean quickly took his brother's pulse, noting with relief that it was down to 106. Sam was beginning to improve. Shaking, completely overwhelmed, and falling back into shock, Dean sunk down to the ground.

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_Poor Dean...I hope you all liked it...I'll sit biting my nails until I get some reviews that let me know either way..._


	17. Broken

_That was the most reviews I ever got for any chapter ever!!! Thank you al SO MUCH! You all are so fabulous! And I'm so pleased to know that you enjoyed that last chapter! Thank you all for letting me know! And thank you all for continuing to come back for more!_

_Ok, so before I get flamed for the next few chapters, lemme just say that Dean is not supposed to be acting like himself, which is why he's not…Dean is not well- nor is Sam for that matter…the poor guys have been through a lot recently, both on the show and in this story._

_**Spuffyshipper: **Glad you liked it! I wish I had dreams about the show…I wouldn't mind the guys visiting me in a dream!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Yep! Sam's all clear! No more maggots!  
**Sammygirl1063: **Yeah- funny how that EMF meter just happened to land next to Sam in the right area… :0) And yes, of course, Sam'll feel bad about the finger…  
**ScifiGirl: **Dean will sleep, eventually, but right now he's too wound up. He needs to calm a bit first. But I agree…poor babies!  
**AcidChic: **Wow! I can't believe you read all 16 chapters at once! That's a lot! Well, I'm glad that you found the story, welcome abord! And thank you for letting me know that you've enjoyed it so far!  
**Anon: **I'm glad you didn't find the last chapter too sappy. I definitely like to play around with worried!Dean, but then I like worried!Sam too. Maybe I just like to worry people… Hopefully you'll find the next few chapters to your liking.  
**Brokenwind: **Dean certainly is a brave man…if I were in trouble, I think I'd definitely want him around…even if I wasn't in trouble…  
**Fiona: **Lemme send a BIG HUG right back to you for such a nice review! Thanks you so much! I'm happy that you liked that chapter and thanks for all those compliments! But really, I think you just like making me blush…  
**Lola: **Aw, thanks! And I didn't find your last review to be wacky, so maybe that says something about me. It was funny though!_

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**Chapter 17: Broken**

Dean sat next to his brother's bed, knees at his chest for an indeterminable amount of time. His body was numb. Even the finger, which bled through the five layers of bandage and down the rest of his hand, was unfeeling. His thoughts were quiet; everything was quiet. Too much had happened and Dean just couldn't feel anything anymore. So he sat, staring at the nightstand, ignoring the blood that dripped onto the floor.

The cold that chilled him into his bones had returned and Dean once again found himself shivering. His breaths were short, coming in gasps. Gradually, as he sat in his numb silence, an overwhelming feeling of depression came over him. It grew out of his chest, seemingly from his heart, and spread through the rest of his body. By the time the feeling reached his head, Dean was unable to hold back the tears.

Although Sam was unconscious, Dean was unwilling to risk getting caught crying. So despite his own condition and numbness, Dean somehow found his way to his feet and into the bathroom. Once in, he shut the door and fell to his knees facing the bath.

It was even colder in here and Dean shivered more. No longer next to Sam, Dean allowed himself more freedom and his cries became louder. He wished…more than anything…that his father was here…or at least still alive.

There was nobody for him to depend on now and he felt completely alone. Throughout that whole experience of the past half hour, and intermittently throughout the whole day really, Dean had been alone. And not just alone, but alone and solely responsible for his brother's life. He needed his father…and Dean cried more…

Eventually, the cries slowed, Dean's breathing returning to normal. He didn't cry often, but it helped. Although he could have done without the lingering headache. With the climax of his emotional breakdown over with, Dean leaned himself up against the bathroom wall.

Wiping the remaining tears from his eyes, Dean stood up. He was angry…now that he could think again. Dean looked down at his hands and made a face. The bitten finger was still bleeding. "Great. Probably needs stitches." Exiting the bathroom, Dean made his way over to his brother's bed to get the first aide kit. "Sammy…you owe me big time for this finger man. _This _is my trigger finger man. You don't try to bite off a man's trigger finger. Freakin' cannibal…"

Sam slept quietly, unaware of his brother's comments, as well as the finger behind them.

Dean pulled out the butterfly stitches and hissed as he unwrapped the bandage from around his damaged finger. "You are so making this up to me. I'm not washing anything, cleaning anything, cooking anything, or _doing_ anything _at all_ that I don't feel like doing for at least a month. You hear me Sam?"

Again, Sam slept on. With a sigh, Dean looked down at his finger. Two large teeth marks clearly stood out on the top of the finger, just above the knuckle. The marks were deep, although not oozing that much blood.

A large purple bruise had already appeared, surrounding the finger from the knuckle to the fingernail. The majority of the blood appeared to be coming from the underside of his finger and upon turning his hand over, Dean could see why. Sam had bitten through a vein. Dean made a face as he applied antiseptic to his damaged appendage. "Seriously Sam, when you wake up…No, you know what? I think this finger makes it four-three. At least I've never taken a bite out of someone." Dean paused as he remembered Andrea Darris, "Well, ok. But it was just that one time…and she liked it."

Dean finished treating his finger, applying butterfly stitches and then rewrapping it in gauze before seriously turning back towards Sam. Sam was lying on top of the comforter wearing nothing but his shorts and underwear. In addition, due to the amount of holy water that had been poured, Sam was essentially lying in puddles of water…and it showed. Goosebumps covered his skin and small tremors could be seen passing through his body. Dean sighed and then turned down his own bed. Sam would have to sleep there for now and hopefully by the time it was night, the other bed would be dry.

Walking back over to Sam, and mindful of his own finger, Dean lifted his brother into a seated position. "Ok Sammy. I'm not carrying your heavy ass, so you have to help me out here."

Leaning against his brother, Sam slowly blinked and moaned. Dean gave him a shake to prod Sam's awareness along, "Sam. Open your eyes. I need you with me for a second."

Immediately Sam's eyes open fully although they couldn't seem to stop from rolling around in his head. "Dean?"

Dean took in a breath, trying to forget how close this last call really was. Bending down, Dean guided his brother's feet to the floor while keeping Sam's torso steady with his damaged hand.

Once again Sam tried to make sense of his current situation. "Dean?"

Dean responded with directions. "Ok, we need to get you over to the other bed, so I'm gonna stand you up ok?"

Dean moved down to lift his brother into a standing position, but Sam's hand stopped him. "Wait, wait. I don't…Dean…I don't…"

Somehow, whether from instinct or spending nearly a lifetime with his brother, Dean understood the unspoken question, "You're sick Sam. You're going to lay down in the other bed."

Sam nodded and Dean helped his brother up. Upon standing, Sam's knees immediately buckled and Dean had to throw in all his strength to keep them both from hitting the bed. Finally, they both stabilized and Dean, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist, guided his brother to the other bed.

Sam spoke along the way, "I'm cold."

Dean huffed, "No shit."

Sam shook his head, "You mad?"

Dean squinted, unsure how Sam had picked up on that in his semi-conscious state and unsure how aware Sam was of what had just taken place. Dean left the question unanswered.

Finally, the brothers made it to the other bed and Dean helped Sam lie down. Midway down, Sam stopped his brother, looking considerably more aware, "Dean, I'm sorry I lost it."

Dean shook his head confused, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam looked confused himself, "I'm not…I don't know if it really happened. Everything's fuzzy, but if I lost it before, I'm sorry."

Dean took in a breath trying to suppress the rise in anger that had been elicited by his brother's apology. He didn't want to remember ANYTHING about the last hour. Especially not Sam's tears. AND if Sam was apologizing, that meant that Sam had been aware of the entire incident, which made the whole thing even worse.

Unable to suppress his growing fury, Dean lashed out at his brother, "It's nice that you're sorry for blubbering like a baby…how about for what you did to my finger, man?"

Sam lied back on the bed, nearly completely awake now, with a shocked and almost frightened look, "What did I do to your finger?"

Common sense and conscience kicked in and Dean abruptly shut his mouth. He wasn't angry with Sam, well, he wasn't _all_ angry with Sam. The situation really hadn't been Sam's fault, and certainly the finger hadn't been Sam's fault. Sam had no control over a seizure. Dean was just angry…in general. Angry at Orpheus, angry at the situation, angry about his finger, about the maggots/turned flies, angry at himself for going into the hunt blind, angry at Sam for not wanting to deal with the well as fast as possible, angry at his father for trading his soul for Dean's life, angry at Sam for _considering _trading his soul for Dean's life, angry that his parents were dead, angry that a demon was after his brother, angry that he might have to kill Sam, angry that Sam almost died today, and angry that Sam was apologizing. Giving a tight smile, Dean answered his brother, "Forget it. Go to sleep."

Sam looked over at Dean's wrapped finger with concern, "Dean…what did I do? I don't remember."

And now Dean was angry with himself for letting his emotions take over… "Forget it Sam. It's no big deal. Go to sleep."

Looking skeptical, Sam's weariness seemed to overtake him and he closed his eyes.

Covering Sam with a blanket, Dean resisted his overwhelming need to scream…or hit something. He needed to _do_ something. Unfortunately, destroying Orpheus' spirit was out of the question given how far the well was from the cabin. Dean looked over at the nonexistent fire. Well, that was something he could do. At least that would up the temperature in the room…

Bringing the fresh logs over to the fireplace, Dean thought of a way to relieve some of his anger. It was still pouring out, but that didn't matter…chopping firewood would be the perfect way for him to release his anger without straying too far from the cabin. With the fire now lit, Dean threw on his still wet shoes and coat, took one more look over his brother, and made his way outside.

The rain pelted down on him and Dean covered his head with his hood. The axe and the unquartered logs laid against the west side of the cabin. Ignoring the freezing drops that had already soaked through the hood, Dean set up a log and picked up the axe. The rain made the handle slippery, but Dean was fairly sure he could maintain a grip on the axe. Take a breath and drawing together all of his anger, Dean lifted the axe and then slammed it over the log with a yell. The log broke in half.

Dean continued his attack on the kindling for the next thirty minutes, too engrossed in his fury to notice the pain in both hands. However, after thirty minutes, the burning pain in his left palm and the reopened bite on his right pointer finger were screaming too loudly to be ignored. With an exhale and a stumble, Dean dropped the axe to the ground. He was soaked, he was freezing, and both hands were throbbing, but overall he felt considerably better.

Dean walked back into the cabin and once again changed his clothes and rebandaged his hands. Then he looked around. He had gone through more clothes over the past four days than he normally would go through in a week. Not only that, but the first aide kit badly needed to be restocked and there was no holy water left.

He couldn't restock the first aide kit; he didn't want to leave Sam alone in case he relapsed or in case Orpheus decided to come back…but he _could_ turn the ten remaining spring waters into holy water. With a new mission, Dean set to work. Sam was sweating again, which meant he'd have to drink more water to keep from dehydrating. Hopefully, this time the holy water wouldn't pain him.

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Three hours later, eight bottles of holy water sat on the table in the kitchenette. One more bottle stood on Dean's nightstand, next to Sam's head. And an empty bottle laid in the garbage pale where Dean had thrown it after force-feeding it to his brother. Fortunately for both brothers, _this time_ the holy water did not cause Sam pain.

It was now dark out and Dean stoked the fire. He didn't want to think about the day, or the fact that this _very_ easily could've been the first night he spent without a family…without Sam. He was tired, but afraid to sleep, fearing that the day would repeat in his dreams.

Standing up, Dean rolled his neck and stretched…maybe he shouldn't have chopped all that wood. Making a face, Dean stretched out his sore back muscles. Then he walked over to Sam and felt his head. Sam remained asleep, as he had done for most of the day, but was now considerably cooler. Daring to hope, Dean pulled the thermometer out of the first aide kit and put it under his brother's tongue. Hopefully Sam wouldn't bite that too…

The thermometer dinged and Dean smiled for the first time in over nine hours. Sam's temperature was normal. With a huge sigh of relief and an arrogant hand gesture to Orpheus, in case he was around, Dean squeezed Sam's hand and walked over to Sam's bed.

The right side of the bed, where Sam had been laying was still damp, but Dean was able to lay comfortably on the left side. The fire flickered and crackled, casting shadows and red hues throughout the room. It was warm in the cabin now as the fire had been burning for four hours. Sinking into the soft mattress, Dean laid on his side, towards his brother, and finally allowed himself to relax. Sam was safe; Sam was healing…that was most important. All the other stuff, Orpheus, the maggots, the demon, their father, their lives…all the other stuff wasn't as important that one fact. With another sigh, Dean shut his eyes; Sam was going to be okay.

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_I know, it was short, and not the most exciting (sorry)...but the next one starts rather, uh, unexpectedly, so I had to stop this chapter where it was..._

_And of course Dean's not okay now..._


	18. Hypocrisy

_**Warning: **This chapter contains graphic violence. The first six paragraphs of this chapter are rated M, the rest is not as graphic and therefore, T. If graphic violence and torture disturbs you, skip the first six paragraphs._

_OVER 500 REVIEWS!!! OMG! I'm sooooo happy right now! Lemme just give a great big hug to everyone who contributed to that! I love you guys!!! I never in a million years thought I'd get nearly that many reviews for any of my stories! Thank you all once again SO much for continuing to read and review this story. I'm so happy that you keep returning and haven't gotten bored. :0)_

_**Sammygirl1963- **Thanks! Here's a new one for ya!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Well, he's not totally ok, but overall he's much better…  
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**Reddgemini: **Aw thanks! And I'm glad you like the story! Thanks for telling me!  
**Lola: **Yep, Sammy's big bro does need him, unfortunately Sammy needs Dean right now too. It's like the blind leading the blind around here. :0)  
**Fiona: **Giant hug to you too! And I'm glad SN finally made it back to you guys! Thanks for another awesome review. It made me smile!_

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**Chapter 18: Hypocrisy**

Sam stood in the red room, tied to the wall as he had been for the past hour. Dean sat in the chair across from him, calmly holding his hand out for Orpheus. Dean's hand only had two fingers left, the others now just bloody stumps. As before, Orpheus Wendel took the offered hand and laid it across the tree stump in the middle of the room. Sam yelled at Dean to move his finger, but Dean just shook his head…and then Orpheus brought the axe down.

Blood splattered as Dean screamed in pain. Picking up the amputated finger, the now yellow-eyed Orpheus approached Sam. Sam mashed his lips together, closed his eyes, and turned his head, knowing what was coming. He fought as hard as he could to keep his mouth closed and his head turned away. Suddenly, Sam felt the pain of a knife cutting into his leg and neck. Surprised, Sam opened his eyes to find Dean standing in front of him. Dean was cutting into Sam's flesh with one hand while trying to force feed him the bloody finger with the other.

Sam shook his head, tears beginning to form. The Orpheus/demon then took a bottle of acid and began pouring it over Sam's neck. The burning feeling of his own skin and flesh disintegrating became too much and Sam screamed in pain. Immediately, the demon, now inside Dean's body, shoved the dismembered finger into Sam's mouth.

Sam twisted and turned in his bonds, desperately trying to propel Dean's bloody finger from his mouth. No longer holding the finger, the Dean/demon just laughed and focused on pouring more acid over Sam's body. The pain was intense and Sam tried to scream only to end up swallowing more of Dean's blood. The finger slipped deeper into Sam's mouth and he suddenly realized that it was hard to breathe.

Now thrusting against his bonds with all his might, Sam found himself becoming aware that his foot was tangled. Sam looked down to see why his right foot wouldn't move, only to find his entire torso bloodied and skinless…the raw flesh being eaten by hundreds of maggots. Sam cried more, the finger still in his mouth choking him. He cried and shook, desperately trying to free his right foot. All at once, the maggots turned up towards him, their beady eyes turning yellow as Orpheus' voice rang out. "You should have taken the deal Sam. The demon wouldn't have gotten to Dean…torturing him, if you had taken the deal."

Sam looked up to find Dean, blood dripping from his mouth and torso, hands fingerless, plastered to the wall across from him. Then, all at once, the maggots from Sam's own torso began jumping onto his face, crawling into his mouth. Still unable to expel Dean's finger, Sam was also unable to expel the maggots. The burning sensation returned along Sam's body, accompanied by the sensation of the maggots eating his flesh and crawling down his throat. The pain was horrible and across from him Dean screamed as the demon broke his neck.

"DEAN!" Sam awoke covered in sweat and gasping for breath. His heartbeat drummed loudly in his ears. Beyond the heartbeat, a faint thump followed by a groan was heard. Utterly confused, Sam looked around the room trying to determine where he was and what had happened. He could still feel the burning sensation on his neck as well as taste his brother's blood in his mouth.

Unable to determine much from his current viewpoint, Sam attempted to sit up. Attempted…but was unable to move. As much as Sam tried, his body would not obey his commands. Filled with panic, Sam desperately looked around, finally gaining the awareness that it was night, the fire was out, and he was in the cabin.

Automatically, he looked to the left, towards his brother's bed, only to find a wall. Even more confused, Sam turned his head to the right, finding a bed, but no Dean. Where the hell was his brother? Had the dream been real? Had the demon gotten to Dean while Sam was out? "DEAN!"

Frantically, Sam looked around, but Dean was nowhere to be found. Squeezing his eyes closed in fear, Sam yelled again, "DEAN!" Vaguely, Sam had the feeling of being five years old and yelling Dean's name out from his bed after a nightmare. They had always shared a room, and Dean was usually awake having been woken by Sam's tossing and turning even before Sam woke up. It had been a long time since Sam had called for his brother after a nightmare…over fifteen years now. But after _that_ nightmare, coupled with his inability to move, his confusion, and Dean not being in the area, Sam needed to find his brother. "DEAN!"

"Alright already! Jesus Christ Sam! Stop screaming!"

Sam turned in the direction of his brother's voice only to be met with an empty bed. Now, more frightened and confused than before, Sam felt himself beginning to hyperventilate. "Dean? I can't see you? Where are you?"

A sigh was heard followed by movement from the other side of the bed. "No shit Sam…you scared the crap out of me…your screaming threw me right off the freakin' bed."

Sam watched as Dean's disheveled head, followed by his arms appeared over the bed's horizon. With a grimace, Dean pushed himself against the bed and into a standing position. Then he walked over to his brother. Sam stared up at him with tears in his eyes.

"Hey…since when do you wake up screaming _my_ name?" Dean walked closer and then sat on the edge of Sam's bed.

Immediately Sam looked down to Dean's hands and noted the two bandages, one covering Dean's pointer finger. Shaking in fear of the answer, Sam asked the question, "Dean? What happened to your finger?"

Dean looked down at the once again bloody bandage, sighed, and then rubbed his face with his other hand. "I landed on it when I fell out of the bed."

Sam drew his brows together in confusion, not understanding the answer. Dean noted his brother's confusion and assuming Sam's concern for his finger was based on just noticing the bandage, Dean changed the subject. "What's with you tonight Sammy? Aren't you the wake up screaming and then pretend everything's 'lollipops and candycanes' type? What's with the yelling my name?"

Sam fought to calm his breathing, staring up at his brother with unusually large eyes, "I had a bad dream."

Bad dream? Sam hadn't used the phrase bad dream in probably over fifteen years. Concerned, Dean moved his hand to his brother's forehead…no fever.

Feeling Dean's hand on his forehead, Sam felt a sense of calm fold over him and he closed his eyes.

Dean noticed Sam's eyes close and he sighed, assuming that Sam had fallen back asleep. Dean moved to get up and then felt a hand close around his wrist. Looking back down, Dean found Sam staring at him. "Ok, what gives Sam?"

Sam swallowed his tears and spoke in a whisper, "What happened to your finger?"

Dean grimace, silently yelling at himself for ever bringing the finger thing up. "Sam…"

Sam shook his head cutting Dean off from his placating 'it's nothing' response. "Dean, your finger."

Dean sighed, casually laying his hand on his brother's nearby arm. "The last maggot was under your mouth, so I had to put my finger in your mouth to feel it…"

Shocked and frightened, Sam cut his brother off, "God, I bit it."

Dean nodded, "You had a seizure man, you couldn't help it."

Sam made a face, swallowing against the bile that rose in his throat. "It wasn't a dream then…"

Dean looked confused and then attempted to put the pieces together, "You had a dream about biting my finger?"

Sam looked up, remorse in his eyes, "I'm sorry…Dean, I'm sorry…"

Dean shook his head interrupting. "Not your fault Sam. There are other things you could be sorry for but this isn't one of them."

Sam grew puzzled, wondering what Dean was referring to. Then, with a stab of fear, Sam thought that perhaps Dean was mad that he hadn't taken the deal. He would have…he would gladly have accepted Orpheus' bargain, but based on Dean's speech, he had truly believed that Dean didn't want that. But what if Dean had just been saying that?

Unaware of Sam's thoughts, Dean moved again to get up. Once again, Sam's hand reached out. "Dean…I can't move."

Turning back, Dean shook his head confused, "What're you talking about?"

Sam sighed, "I can't move. I tried to sit up…I can't."

Still looking confused, Dean put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Ok, sit up."

Sam tried, but was able to rise only four inches (10 cm) from the bed. Exhausted, Sam sagged back down and looked to his brother for an explanation.

Dean nodded, "You're weak."

Seeing Sam begin to protest, Dean held up his hand, "I'm not saying it as an insult, man. I mean you're weak from the fever." Dean looked his brother in the eyes, "You were this close, Sam."

Sam stared with a small amount of fascination seeing a fear in his brother's eyes that Dean had never before allowed him to see. Sam wondered if he were the only one who had had a nightmare this night. "Sorry…but hey, you kept your promise?"

Dean gave a small smile and nodded. Then he tapped his brother's arm, "That one was a little too close for comfort Sammy."

Sam smiled, rolled his eyes, and mumbled, "Now you know how I feel." At Dean's confused look Sam added, "Uh, which of us is it that's on a first name basis with the reaper?"

Dean smiled…no argument there. "You'll get your strength back after awhile, don't sweat it…you need something?"

Sam nodded, "Water?"

Dean agreed and then put his hands behind Sam's shoulders pulling him up. Sam hadn't been exaggerating when he complained of having no strength. Now sitting up, Sam tilted to the side, leaning almost completely on his brother. Not even having the strength to raise his head, Sam's head hung down causing his bangs to flop in his face.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed his brother back so that Sam was leaning against the headboard. It took some managing, but somehow Dean was able to keep his brother from sliding to the right _and_ reach over to grab the bottle of water from the nightstand. Then, still holding Sam steady, Dean unscrewed the cap and gave his brother the water.

With a shaking hand, Sam attempted to bring the water to his mouth. As his hand got higher, the shaking became more substantial and the water began spilling over the top of the water bottle. Just as he was about to give up, Dean's hand (minus the injured finger) covered Sam's hand, helping him lift the water bottle. As the bottle came to his lips, Sam felt Dean push his head back so that he would be able to drink. It was a slow process, but after five minutes, over half the bottle had been drained.

Exhaustion and fatigue increased over the span of time and after the five minutes, Sam was practically asleep sitting up. Taking note of Sam's condition, Dean screwed the cap onto the water bottle and replaced it on the nightstand. Then he slid Sam down so that once again he was lying flat.

Noticing that he was able to see how pale Sam actually was, Dean looked up. The dark cabin was beginning to lighten as pink rays shone through the windows. Based on the sounds, the wind and the rain had stopped. Shivering from a chill, Dean untangled the blankets from around Sam's feet and placed them back over his brother. Then he lit another fire in the fireplace.

Dean sat back on the couch, pondering Sam's awareness of what had happened. Obviously, Sam had been more aware of the past days events than he originally had though. And, additionally, it was clear that Sam had been aware during the seizure. Dean laid himself down on the couch, watching the fire crackle. The feelings of anger, depression, and worry lingered around him and Dean closed his eyes with the realization that this was his life…and there was no escaping it. Sam was 'different', evil was out there, their father was in Hell, and the demon would always be chasing them, trying to take Sam from him…trying to use him for his evil plans. There would be no peace for them…no feeling of safety…ever. With those morose thoughts drifting through his head, Dean drifted off to sleep.

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When Sam awoke, the cabin was filled with sunlight. Slowly Sam turned his head, knowing that he was in the cabin, but unsure of why he was in his brother's bed. He had a vague memory of waking up from a nightmare and Dean talking to him, but he had no distinct recollection of what they had talked about. He did remember the nightmare however, and the knowledge that he had in fact bitten his brother's finger.

He was tired, despite having slept for almost 24 hours, but there was another basic function making itself known and Sam suddenly became aware of what had awakened him. The bathroom was calling.

Fortunately, it seemed that Sam had regained some of his strength since when he had last awoken. Slowly, Sam pushed himself up into a seated position, ignoring the headache and waves of dizziness as they passed over him.

Now seated upright, Sam looked across the cabin and noticed Dean cooking something on the stove. Dean was clean and dressed, with bandages on both hands. However, only one bandage covered a finger. Sam wondered what had happened to Dean's other hand. Pushing that thought aside, Sam slowly put his legs down to the floor and then stood up.

A feeling of heaviness covered his head and darkness surrounded him. He was vaguely aware as he hit the floor, though he felt no pain. It was dark and he was numb. Then, a coolness flowed over his head, pulling the dark spots away from his vision. As he stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling, Sam realized that he had been stupid. A few hours ago he couldn't even hold his head up, what would possess him to think that he could stand?

Dean's face appeared above him as Dean's injured hands helped Sam to once again sit up. Dean was quiet, which surprised Sam because he would have expected a snide remark (or at the very least a 'what happened'). Realizing that Dean wasn't going to speak, Sam offered the information, "Sorry…was trying to get to the bathroom."

Dean gave a brief nod before pulling Sam to his feet. The room swam and Sam leaned heavily on his brother trying desperately not to fall to the ground. Without complaint or comment Dean bore all of Sam's weight, until gradually, Sam's legs were able to take some of it back.

Slowly, Dean helped his brother into the bathroom and then gave Sam his privacy. After relieving himself, Sam washed himself down with soap and brown water. Then, with Dean's help, he changed into the clothes Dean had brought in from his bag. After his bathroom business was completed, Sam leaned on his brother as Dean escorted him out of the bathroom and over to one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Through it all, Dean didn't speak.

Dean set a bowl of soup in front of him, "Eat. It'll help you get your strength back."

Sam stared at the soup before giving his brother a wary look, "What's wrong with you?"

Dean answered shortly while pouring some soup for himself. "Nothin'."

Sam continued his look. Dean was quiet…quieter than Sam could ever remember him being, except for the first two days after their father had died. Sam falling on his ass was a perfect opportunity for Dean to mock him and yet Dean had passed it up. So far this morning Dean had made little eye-contact with him. Something was definitely wrong…and somehow Sam wasn't shocked that Dean didn't want to talk about it.

Obviously, whatever the problem was, it was something that had happened between yesterday and today, since before yesterday Dean was acting like himself. Trying to figure out what was bothering his brother without pissing Dean off further, Sam questioned his brother about yesterday's events. "So how'd you do it?"

Dean sat down and look up confused, "How'd I do what?"

Sam sucked down a spoonful of soup, "How'd you save my life?"

Dean shrugged and focused his eyes back down on the soup, "I just got rid of the other maggots."

"Maggot_s_?! Like, more than one? Dean…how many were there?"

Dean shrugged again, "Only two; relax Sammy. One was behind your knee, although that one was dead already. The other one was under your chin."

Suddenly Sam remembered the conversation he had had the night before. "When I bit you…Dean, how's your finger? Is it…I mean…it's okay, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes and finished sucking down his soup, "It's fine Sam."

Sam watched his brother's back with concern as Dean got up to wash his bowl. Something was _definitely_ bothering Dean. Then Sam remembered more of his conversation from the night before…Dean telling him that there were other things he should be sorry for… "Dean?"

Dean put down the dishwashing holy water and turned back towards his brother.

Sam fiddled with his spoon as he stared at Dean, "Are you mad because I refused Orpheus' deal? Because you know I would've taken it…I just…after what you said, I thought…"

Sam stopped talking. Dean's face had become the true image of rage. Sam didn't know what had struck a nerve, but clearly he had hit close enough to the root of the problem to get Dean's anger to come to the surface.

"Shut the hell up Sam."

Sam shook his head…not when he was this close to figuring out the issue… "Dean, I thought you wanted me to turn down the deal."

Dean slammed his injured fist on the counter, "I did want you to turn it down."

Sam nodded, "Okay…so then why are you pissed?"

"Why am I pissed?" Dean spoke as though the answer should have been obvious. "What the hell do you mean why am I pissed?"

Now Sam was getting annoyed, "I mean…why…are…you…pissed?"

Dean's face turned even redder (if that was possible) as he grit his teeth in anger. After a moment he pointed to Sam's soup. "Finish that. It's getting cold." Then he turned to walk towards the fireplace to stoke the fire.

Sam called out to his brother as Dean walked away, "No, no, no Dean…you're not doing this."

Dean turned back angry, "Doing what? You don't want me to stoke the fire? You want it to go out?"

Sam shook his head, concern filling his features, "That's not what I'm talking about and you know it. Tell me what I did to piss you off. You said it wasn't the finger…what else did I do?"

Dean turned back to the fire, "Drop it Sam."

Sam glared at his brother's back…why was it that everyday Dean did something to cause Sam to marvel at how much of an ASS Dean could be? Sam shook his head and turned back to the soup. Dean was going to talk…Sam just had to trick him into it. Clearly it had something to do with the hunt and Orpheus' deal. Sam considered…maybe he could approach the issue from a side route.

"Hey Dean?"

Dean turned around, looking out from under his eyebrows in preemptive annoyance.

Sam hated that look, "You think Orpheus targets people? Like chooses to infect people that he thinks will take the deal?"

Dean relaxed, shook his head, and walked back towards the kitchenette area. "No. He doesn't."

Sam looked confused…Dean had said that with an awful lot of certainty… "What? How can you be so sure?"

Dean shrugged, looking at the floor, "'Cause the maggots infected _you_."

Sam shook his head, "Yeah, but I _was_ going to take the deal…it was only because you talked me out of it…"

Dean shook his head, cutting his brother off, "That's not what I meant."

Sam looked confused again, "Then what did you mean?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "I _meant_, the maggots infected _you_. If Orpheus was looking for targets, they would've gone into me."

Sam squinted off to the side…that made no sense, "Yeah, but you would've turned him down too…"

…Silence…

Quickly, Sam looked up at his brother, "Dean?" Dean stared down at his shoes, avoiding eye-contact.

Sam's eyes grew wide…it couldn't be… "Dean…you would've turned the deal down too, right?"

Dean walked over and picked up Sam's soup, "You done with this?"

Sam felt his face get hot with rage. He grabbed Dean's forearm, stopping him from walking away with the soup. "Dean…tell me you wouldn't take that deal…"

Dean remained quiet looking away. Sam released his arm, but began yelling, "After that whole speech?! After you _convinced_ me that it was immoral…that it was evil? What the hell was all that Dean?!"

Dean put down the soup and stepped back, a defensive look on his face, "Nothin'! I meant what I said!"

Sam leaned forward, "Then how the hell can you say that you would take the deal?"

Once again, Dean looked down at his shoes.

Sam stared at his brother and then began slowly shaking his head in anger as awareness dawned on him. "You meant that stuff for me. It's not okay for _me_ to sacrifice my soul for my family's happiness, but it's okay for _you_ to do it? Is that it?"

Dean raised his eyebrows giving Sam a tight, annoyed smile. "Pretty much."

Sam seethed in anger. He was _furious_; he was so enraged that he couldn't even think.

Dean raised his arms, his smile still tight on his face, "What can I say Sammy? I'm a selfish bastard, alright? That's the way it is. Sorry…" Dean turned to walk away.

With an animalistic yell, Sam propelled himself out of his seat and onto his brother, taking them both down to the ground.

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_Please don't flame me -hides behind big rock- ... but all other reviews (critical or otherwise) are welcome:0)_


	19. Weaknesses

_Hi, thanks for coming back. This is a bit of a slow chapter as we're dealing with feelings, but soon we'll be back to the action…as soon as all this chick-flick crap (as Dean would put it) is out of the way._

_Ahem…as I wrote this chapter before Playthings, it's now somewhat AU. But not so much that I can't shut my eyes and pretend that it's not. So, um, that's what I'll be doing and hopefully ya'll be able to just go with the flow here…_

_Uh, also, there's some nudity (one line- not too bad- not descriptive)._

_**Yah-Chan: **Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Here's the rest of the fight!  
**Hey!: **Thanks! I'm glad you felt that it was in character! Thanks for letting me know!  
**AcidChic: **Thanks! I'm always thrilled to know that you can picture these things happening in your head!  
**Spuffyshipper: **Thanks glad you liked it! Hopefully it'll get warmer by you soon!  
**Lola: **Sam may take your advice…and I think there hasn't been a chapter yet where Sam hasn't marveled at Dean's ass-likeness…  
**Brokenwind: **No! No rock throwing:0) What happens next? Well here you go!  
**Fiona: **Thanks! Another giant hug back! I hope you enjoyed the latest SN! And I'm really happy that you liked that last chapter!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Lol…no frying pans here, but tackling Dean may not have been the best idea…  
**RogueBludger: **Thanks! I'm glad you like the story! And thanks for letting me know!  
**Issy: **Thanks! I'm happy to be entertaining you as you work overtime. And here's the next chapter for you!_

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**Chapter 19: Weaknesses**

He had baited the fight…anything to help get the anger out of his system. He hadn't lied, truth be told, he would've taken the deal. If Sam would be safe from the demon…safe from becoming evil…able to have the normal life he had always wanted. He'd take the deal. It'd be worth it, and then in the end he'd had followed in his father's footsteps. So really, it'd just make sense. But the truth was that he was tired. Tired of running and tired of being terrified all the time. He had almost lost Sam yesterday, it shook him to the core, but how many more of those instances were left in their lifetimes? He was losing it…losing his strength to keep fighting. And so long as Sam was targeted, he'd always fight, but if there was a way out, he'd take it.

But that wasn't why he had baited the fight, although it may have been part of it. He was just angry and still a little terrified. He had _truly_ believed that Sam was going to die yesterday. Hell, he had even shared a goodbye speech with him. Sam was ready to go. They _talked_ about it. And now what? Sam was going to be fine, so therefore it should be like that day never happened…it didn't work that way. He was mad…at life in general…and at Sam for almost leaving him. And that anger had to come out.

Dean tensed as he heard Sam's yell, knowing full well what was coming, despite his back being towards his brother. Dean braced himself as he landed on his forearms. Then quickly he flipped his body around and began wrestling with his brother.

Sam was clearly weak and thus, easily overpowered by Dean. However, he had one advantage that Dean didn't…his hands. Summoning his fury driven energy, Sam nailed his brother with a right hook. The punch knocked Dean off of his brother, throwing him to the right.

Dean touched his cheek, feeling the heat seep out from where the flesh had been bruised and the skin had been scraped raw. From his position on all fours, Dean saw Sam begin to get up. With a yell of his own, Dean lunged for his brother's legs, taking Sam back down to the floor.

Once again the brothers wrestled, rolling around on the floor while seemingly trying to push each other's heads off. Necks were strained, teeth were clenched, spit flew, gasps sounded, and furniture seemed to move itself out of the way.

The rolling continued as Sam's fatigue began to slowly outweigh his rage. More and more often, Dean seemed to be getting the upper hand. But Sam was still angry enough to not give up on the fight. If his energy wouldn't win, then perhaps devious strategy would.

He had been trained well; they both had. And when they fought in an emotional haze, both brothers were subject to their training. Training which had become instinct…do whatever you have to do to take the enemy down.

Partially pinned, and looking up at Dean, Sam brought his strategic instinct into play. Turning his head to the left, he spied his brother's injured right hand. With a furious glare, Sam grabbed Dean's bitten finger and twisted as hard as he could. Immediately, Dean screamed in pain, rolling off his brother. But they had been trained together…

As Dean rolled off Sam, he brought his knee up…hard…and straight into Sam's already damaged crotch. With a yell similar to his brother's, Sam curled over around his genitals and rolled to the side…away from Dean.

Both brothers laid, side by side, breathing heavily and clutching their damaged body parts. Dean cradled his finger as he kneeled facing the floor and Sam still laid curled, facing the now crooked back of the couch.

For minutes, the only sounds heard in the cabin were the gasps of breath from both brothers. Emotionally and physically drained, Sam thought as he laid on the floor. The fight was over. Dean wouldn't continue it; after all, it was Sam that had started it. But he was furious…still. Dean had betrayed him. There didn't even seem to be words to describe all the emotions he was feeling. How could Dean…after that whole speech…how could he say that he would have taken the deal? What the hell was all that yelling about not making deals with devil…or in this case, gods? How could Dean convince Sam that it was wrong, get him to give up the opportunity, and then be willing to do it himself? The betrayal was overwhelming. Dean had been throwing a fit over their father's sacrifice and yet he was willing to do that same thing to Sam? At least when Sam had considered taking the deal, he hadn't thought out all the morals. He hadn't thought it through…AND he had been charmed by Orpheus into thinking it was a good idea. Dean KNEW all the reasons why it was wrong. He HADN'T been charmed…and yet he was still willing to do it. Sam had looked up to him- said 'no' to the deal because that's what Dean said was the right thing to do…and in reality, Dean had been manipulating him.

"I hate you."

Dean turned from his position, rolling his eyes at Sam's declaration. Sam didn't mean it. He knew that. Sam was just angry…and he understood why, but like he had told Sam- he was selfish. Sam just had to deal with it.

Pushing aside the intense throbbing of his finger, Dean crawled over two feet and held his left hand to help Sam into a sitting position. "You need a hand there Sammy?"

Sam glared at the hand as he sat up himself, "Don't touch me…and it's Sam."

Dean winced. Now that had hurt...much more that the 'I hate you', much more than the punch, and much more than the bitten finger. He hadn't heard 'it's Sam' in over a year. It was a representation of how close they were, how much their relationship had grown that Sam now allowed Dean to call him Sammy. Sam was more pissed than Dean would've thought.

Moving away from his brother, Dean crawled over so that he was seated, leaning against the back of the couch. Three feet away, Sam followed in suit. They now sat parallel, three feet apart. Sam stewing in rage, and Dean, most of his anger having been released in the fight, now stewing in depression.

He felt bad now, for having baited the fight with his recovering sibling. He should never have told Sam that he would take the deal. It wasn't something that Sam needed to know. He just…he was just tired…so damn tired of being scared. And he was losing his cool. He should've had more control over his emotions. At least enough control to keep his damned mouth shut. He had to get it together. Ever since his dad died he had been on a downhill spiral. It was out of control. He didn't know where his life was going and he couldn't handle the responsibility. He couldn't handle being the one that Sam looked up to. The one that was meant to save Sam. He just couldn't do it anymore; he was burnt out.

"I'm tired Sam."

It was whispered and Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. Dean was tired? How the hell did he think Sam felt?

"I'm scared man…all the time."

Sam's blood stopped cold, a shiver of fear going through body. Dean sharing his feelings was a rare occurrence. Dean spontaneously sharing his _fear_? And to Sam? Sam concentrated forcing his fatigue away so that he could give Dean his full attention. Dean's admission had just scared the shit out of him. If Dean was admitting to being scared, then Dean had been _a lot_ more traumatized by yesterday's events than Sam would've thought possible. Dean was hardly ever rattled. Hell, even after their father had died he hadn't discussed his feelings…

Realizing that Dean hadn't spoken more, Sam, without looking in his brother's direction, prodded Dean along. "Why?"

Dean laughed. Why, he asked…it wasn't obvious? Everything was on him…Sam's eternal fate was dependent on him…and Sam wanted to know why…

Still hearing no answer, Sam turned his head toward his brother. Dean was looking straight ahead, staring at the stove. Sam spoke in a soft voice, "Dean? Talk to me man. Please. What are you afraid of?"

There was silence, and for a moment Sam feared that Dean's openness had come to an end, but then, in an equally soft voice, Dean answered, "What if I can't save you?"

Oh. And there it was. Sam could've kicked himself. Dean had always seemed so confident about being able to save him…no matter what the situation. Even yesterday, Sam was at death's door, but when Dean promised to save him, Sam just believed him…after all, Dean had never let him down before. But Dean wasn't talking about yesterday, and Dean didn't need to be putting up a front for Sam. He wasn't five anymore. And while it was nice to know that Dean would always have his back; he never expected Dean to cover his front. Dean had always been there to reassure Sam, now it was Sam's turn and he was happy to do it.

"You don't have to Dean. I know dad left you with that…load. But you and dad need to understand something." Sam turned to meet his brother's eyes, "I'm not that helpless baby that you carried out of the fire anymore. I'm an adult. And I've been raised well…by two warriors. You're not solely responsible for me…despite what dad may have thought. I'm responsible for myself. And I know you'll always have my back…and I appreciate that…more than you know. But it's not _your_ fight…or _your_ responsibility. It's _mine_…at most _ours_."

Sam sighed, a bit relieved as he saw Dean turn away with a lighter look on his face…apparently Sam's pep talk hadn't been too bad. "…And just for the record, I have no intention of going darkside."

Dean gave a half-laugh as he stared at the stove. He hadn't actually ever considered that Sam was partially responsible for his own well-being. Dad had told him he was responsible for Sam, so he had taken on the full responsibility without question, but Sam was right. It was _their_ burden…and there certainly wasn't any way that he could save Sam _without_ Sam's help. Dean allowed a smile that he didn't entirely feel to reach his face as he turned to his brother. "That wasn't bad Sammy…uh, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes, feeling more than a little guilty about the 'it's Sam' remark. Sam gave a laugh, "Sure… for ten years I'm saying, 'it's Sam' and the one time I don't mean it is when you listen."

Dean's smile grew wider and he stood up. Once again he extended his left hand to his brother. "Now don't go thinkin' because of that little speech you get any privileges. If I see you getting too big for your britches I'll have to kick your ass again."

Sam gave his brother an amused look as he carefully accepted the help up, avoiding Dean's actual hand. "Excuse me? Uh…I wouldn't have called that 'kicking my ass'…considering I won."

Dean shot back his own amused look as he helped Sam back over to the bed. "You wish. Dude, who's helping who walk right now?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he lied down on his brother's bed, "Whatever man. Just so long as you don't go all emo on me again."

At that comment, Dean abruptly let go of his brother, causing Sam to fall the rest of the way onto the bed. Sam winced and Dean laughed as Sam's head met the headboard. "Jerk."

Still laughing, Dean helped his brother get situated on the bed. "Bitch."

Sam smiled and closed his eyes. Then he opened then again with a confused look, "Dean? Why am I on your bed?"

Dean looked back at the other bed and answered, "Oh, that one was wet from the holy water."

Sam shrugged, accepting the answer, and once again closed his eyes. Knowing that Sam had not yet fallen asleep, Dean continued talking, "And FYI…drinking holy water…completely counteracts demonic maggot poison."

Sam gave a smile, half asleep. As he drifted off, he answered back, "Too bad there's no holy water in the well…"

Dean froze, staring at his now sleeping sibling and resisting the urge to hit himself in the head. Now why hadn't he thought of that?

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When Sam awoke for the second time that day, the cabin was caste in an orange glow. Squinting, Sam looked up at the windows; the sun was setting. With a groan, Sam pushed himself up into a seated position. He was sore…and tired. Clearly, fighting Dean hadn't been one of his brightest ideas. Speaking of Dean…

Sam gave a casual glance around the cabin, noticing that his brother was nowhere in sight. "Dean?"

Sam's question was met with silence and Sam groaned again realizing that he'd have to get up. He looked down at his legs, "It'd be nice if you worked this time."

Slowly, and using the bedpost to support himself, Sam stood. He was still a little dizzy, and definitely weak, but he felt fairly confident that this time he'd be able to stand. Sure enough, when he let go of the bedpost, he remained on his feet.

Bit by bit, with the grace of a ninety year old man that had just had his hip replaced, Sam made his way to the bathroom. Dean wasn't there, but since he had made it that far, Sam decided to take the opportunity to relieve himself. As he was taking care of his business, he examined his sore, cut, and now bruised testicles. He couldn't help but hope that Dean's finger had hurt…a lot. But that then brought him back to Dean. Where the hell was he?

Finishing up in the bathroom, Sam noticed his coat hanging over the shower rod where Dean had left it to dry. This morning there had been two coats there, now there was only one. Obviously Dean had gone out.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Sam pulled out his cell phone. It was damp and Sam hoped that it wasn't damaged. With a push of a button, he called his brother.

Dean picked up on the second ring, "What is it Sam?"

Sam tensed at his brother's words…he had thought they were okay after the fight. He knew he was still a little out of it, but they had been joking around…was Dean still angry? "Are you still pissed Dean?"

There was a pause, followed by a sigh before Dean responded, "I'm kind of busy here. What do you want?"

Yep, Dean was still pissed. Sam felt his own annoyance increase…along with his headache, "I just wanted to know where you were."

Another pause and sigh, "Oh. Yeah. Sorry Sam. I forgot you were asleep when I left. I'm at the general store. We needed to restock the first aide kit and I'm picking up some gallon containers of water."

Sam sunk down on his bed, relieved. He had been afraid that Dean had gone to finish Orpheus himself. "How's your finger?"

Sam waited for a response but was met with only silence. "Dean? You still there?"

"Yeah. You okay on your own for now?"

Sam nodded as he responded, "Yeah?"

"Alright. I'll be back in about a half hour." And with that, Dean hung up.

Throwing the phone onto his bed…or rather Dean's bed, Sam began biting his nails. Many disconcerting thoughts seemed to be running through his mind, all of them centered around one person…Dean. What the hell was his problem? Why was Dean being such an ass…yet again. Sam laughed to himself, maybe Dean _wasn't acting_ like an ass…maybe he just _was_ one. It'd certainly explain a lot.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at himself. Whether Dean's status quo was as an ass…or not…really wasn't the point. The point was that Dean's behavior was off. Usually if Dean was pissed and they had a physical fight, Dean's anger would be released and they could move on. Throw in their heart-to-heart moment, which was also odd behavior for Dean, and Dean DEFINITELY shouldn't still be pissed. AND Sam remembered talking to his brother before falling asleep, Dean was fine. What the hell?!

Sam thought back to their argument…why had Dean been pissed to begin with? The only thing that had really come out of that fight was Dean's anger that Sam had considered the deal. "At least I didn't take it, which is more than I can say you would've done asshole." Sam spoke into the descending darkness.

Now that he thought about it, he was still pissed too…and more than a little worried. Dean hadn't taken back what he had said. Dean would still take the deal. Sam lowered his head and ran a hand through his hair. It sucked feeling helpless. Hopefully Dean would never be in the situation where he would be offered the deal…but if he was, there would be nothing Sam could do to stop him from taking it.

Tired of thinking, Sam slowly stood up and hobbled over to the fireplace. With a grimace for his sore genitals, Sam crouched down and set about starting a fire in the fireplace. He laughed as he scanned the fireplace…the cabin's owner was going to freak. Not only was half the fireplace covered in hardened maggot ooze, but the rest of the fireplace, and the area in front of it was covered in ash and soot. It figured…Dean had been the one lighting all the fires recently. Apparently it hadn't occurred to him to actually _clean_ the fireplace. However, based on the amount of ash, it would have to be cleaned at least a little before another fire could be set.

Picking up the bucket that had once held the Lambton worm, Sam began shoveling the ash and soot into the bucket. After a few minutes, the fireplace was once again fire ready, and Sam was covered in black soot. Coughing the black ash out of his lungs, Sam hobbled over to wall with the wood…only there was none. Sam rolled his eyes, "Great. Nice Dean. Don't clean the fireplace or restock the wood…"

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had been sleeping for practically two days and yet he was still tired. Pushing back his urge to crawl back into the warm bed, Sam shuffled back into the bathroom and threw on his still wet coat and shoes. Then he made his way outside.

The sun had almost completely set at this point, but the bright moon gave off enough light for Sam to see what he needed to. Walking over to the side of the cabin, Sam picked up a piece of wood. Despite the fact that it hadn't rained at all today, the wood was still soaked. Sam looked around and noticed a difference in the woodpiles. The cut logs in one pile were considerably darker than in the other. Sam moved over to the lighter colored wood. It was still damp, but much drier than the darker wood. Sam looked around…this wood had just recently been cut. Obviously Dean must have done it, but when…and why? There already was a whole pile of wood.

Shaking his head at his mysterious brother, Sam began picking up the newly cut logs. Whatever the reason Dean decided to chop more wood, it had worked out for the best as these logs were possibly dry enough to burn.

When Sam had piled five logs in his arms, he carefully stood up and began slowly walking back to the cabin. His shoes stuck in the mud as he walked, making a squishing 'pop' sound. The logs were precariously balanced in his arms and definitely more heavy than they should have been. About five feet from the door of the cabin, Sam stopped to catch his breath. He was extremely tired now…obviously the trip to bring in the wood had been overdoing it. The shivering from the cold weather and wet coat didn't help.

As Sam stood still, catching his breath, he looked down at the logs in his arms. Across the top log, something appeared to move. Blinking to be sure he hadn't hallucinated, Sam lifted the logs up as best he could and squinted in the moonlight. The logs were covered with maggots. With a gag and a yell, Sam dropped the logs and immediately began brushing off his coat.

Breathing hard from the scare, Sam stepped back from the rotted wood. They hadn't been demonic maggots. Given their cream colored bodies and brown heads, they were most likely beetle larvae, but considering the recent events, Sam wanted as much distance between himself and the tiny creatures as possible.

With as much speed as he could manage, Sam quickly walked back into the cabin and shut the door. It occurred to him to let Dean bring in the wood, but then he pictured actually having that conversation… "Dean, the logs were covered in tiny insect larvae and I'm afraid of them…could you get the wood?" Riiight…Dean already had a lifetime's worth of crap to mock him about, there was no reason to hand him that one.

With a sigh, Sam ignored his dizziness and picked up a flashlight. Turning it on, he went back outside. Avoiding the dropped wood, Sam stumbled back to the side of the cabin to search for uninfested firewood. Crouching down to examine the wood under the light of the flashlight, everything went black.

"Saaam!"

"Saaaammy!"

Awaking to the distant sounds, Sam shivered in the coldness that surrounded him, seeping up through the mud and into his clothes. Slowly he opened his eyes. The air was damp and cold; the sounds of crickets surrounded him. Turning his head in the thick mud, Sam saw the nearby piled wood. Right. He had passed out. With a sigh Sam tried to sit himself up, unfortunately, his muscles seemed to be in the 'off' position.

"Saaaaam!"

Dean's voice was getting louder…and sounded in a near panic. Clearly Dean was looking for him. Sam opened his mouth to yell back to his brother, but no sound came out. Apparently, that was also in the 'off' position.

"SAAAAMMMMY!"

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was horrible to be laying in the mud listening to Dean's fear and not being able to do anything about it. Turning his head the in the other direction Sam noticed his hand still holding the flashlight. Hoping that Dean was _somewhere_ nearby, Sam began waving the flashlight around with his hand and then blinking it on and off.

Gradually, the squishing sound of footsteps in mud got louder.

"SAAAM!"

Sam aimed the light in the direction of the sound and blinked it off and on in quick succession. Given the fact that Sam's feet were in the direction of the voice, it was nearly impossible to see what was going on, or if he was even in Dean's line of vision. A sudden increase in the intensity and speed of the squishing footsteps had Sam's hearing answering the question his eyes couldn't- Dean had found him.

Sure enough, a few seconds later Dean's worried/angry face filled in Sam's vision. "Sam, what the hell man?! Why the hell weren't you answering me?!"

Forgetting the answer to that question, Sam opened his mouth to speak, but once again, no sound came out. The anger in Dean's face vanished leaving only worry in its place. "Okay Sammy."

Putting his hands behind his brother's shoulders, Dean pulled Sam up into a sitting position. Immediately, Sam slumped over onto his brother. Dean didn't allow him to linger long, quickly pulling him up until he was standing. Somehow, Sam's legs managed to hold his own weight. Nevertheless, Dean threw Sam's arm over his shoulder and slowly guided him back into the cabin.

As they slowly walked back, Sam felt Dean shaking. Was it really that cold? He knew that he himself was freezing…and shivering, but that was because he had been laying in cold wet mud. Dean was dry…and warm. Even as they walked Sam could feel the steady warmth surrounding Dean. Clearly Dean hadn't been out in the cold that long, so why was he shaking?

The brothers walked into the cabin and Dean immediately led Sam into the bathroom and sat him on the edge of the toilet. "Dean? Why're you shhheaking?" It was barely audible, and slightly slurred, but at least his voice was working again.

Dean ignored the question and began unzipping Sam's coat. "Dean." Sam put a cold hand over his brother's warm one, stopping him. "I can do that."

Dean made eye-contact quickly, and then walked out of the bathroom without a word. Sam continued what Dean had started, slowly removing all of his wet clothes. Once again Sam found himself baffled by his brother's behavior. However, this time, he couldn't tell whether Dean was angry or worried or both.

Swiftly, Dean re-entered the bathroom, carrying a set of clean clothes. He gestured at Sam and then the clothes. "Can you finish this yourself?"

With a concerned look, Sam nodded, and Dean turned around to walk out.

"Dean stop. Please."

Dean stopped in his tracks, but still faced the door.

Sam knew that might be the best that he would get. "Why are you so pissed at me?"

Dean turned slightly, now facing the mirror, but still avoided eye-contact with his brother, "I'm not doing this again Sam."

Sam shook his head as he stripped off his wet shirt. "Doing what?"

Dean turned and faced him fully now, face full of fury, "Your touchy feely group therapy crap that you keep dragging me into."

Sam held up his hands in defense, "Dean. I didn't make you talk before. You were the one who freely shared that you were scared."

Dean turned back towards the sink, face full of regret, "Yeah well. I wish I never opened my freakin' mouth."

Sam shook his head again, "What the hell is with you man? I mean, what the hell Dean? What the hell happened yesterday that messed with your head so bad?"

Fury back on, Dean whirled back towards his brother. "You! What the hell messed me up so bad?! You were dying Sam! What the hell do you think messed with my head?! You were _dying_! We had a freakin' deathbed conversation for crap's sake! I don't do those. You know that. But it was gonna happen…I couldn't avoid it this time. And what? You pass out…you wake up…and everything's fine. You're recovering, the crisis is over, and everything goes back to normal right? Well I can't do that. I know you think I'm freakin' perfect, but I'm not! And I can't just turn it off just like that. You weren't there! You…" Coming to an abrupt halt, Dean ceased his tirade and turned back facing the door.

Stunned, Sam sucked in a breath, not even realizing that he had forgotten to breathe. The echoes of Dean's screams still hung threw the air. Feeling as though he should say _something_ in response to Dean's outburst, Sam pointed out what he considered to be a fallacy in Dean's thinking, "I _was_ there Dean. We…"

Turning back with tear filled eyes, Dean cut his brother off, "No. You weren't. I was alone. And I dealt…I did what I needed to do. And like I promised, you're okay now, but I'm not. I'm not unbreakable Sam." And with that, Dean left the room.

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_More info as to what's going on with Dean to come in the next chapter... Questions, comments, review and lemme know!_


	20. Healing Dean

_Ok- not too many chapters left folks…thanks to all of you for continuing to read and review this story. I'm so flattered that so many have come back for the next chapter. Thank you. Oh! And believe it or not, I actually wrote all this BEFORE last night's episode (BUABS). At least my Dean's not AU…_

_**AcidChic: **Lol…glad you enjoyed the fight and angry Dean. There's an annoyed and depressed Dean in this chapter, hopefully you'll like him too.  
**ScifiGirl:** Thanks! Yeah- poor Dean and his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…he's working through it.  
**Lola: **Lol…if I had my way with the show though, they'd be hugging every other episode. And don't get your tummy in knots…Sam'll take care of Dean…  
**JustAFan!:** Lol…yes- I agree limp!Sam is fun. But I'm really starting to feel bad for Dean.  
**Anon: **Well, Dean's actually hurt right now, and Sam's finally well enough to be a bit protective. Wait til you see them in the next chapter…they're both so protective that they're constantly arguing with each other about who should do what. But don't worry, Dean'll get injured much more.  
**Mafalda:** Hi! Thanks for letting me know that you're enjoying this! Sam does have his work cut out for him, but I think he might finally be up to the task.  
**Spuffyshipper: **Thanks! Glad you're enjoying the Dean angst!  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Lol…I'm sure if Dean had some rope, he might just do that. I wouldn't mind tying Sam to the bed myself… -looks around quickly- …uh…nobody heard that right?  
**Brokenwind: **Glad you enjoyed it, and I'm sorry to hear about your fear. You could always try 'exposure therapy' and put yourself in a room with screaming people. :0)  
**Fiona: **Woah chickie…calm down…take deep breaths…lol…glad you got a kick out of Dean's breakdown. And once again, thanks for all the compliments! I'm still blushing!_

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**Chapter 20: Healing Dean**

Sam stared at the bathroom wall resisting the urge to throw up. It was an odd feeling he was having- a kind of split personality reaction…if there was such a thing. He was literally shocked…_surprised_ that Dean wasn't unbreakable, which in turned shocked him even more because OF COURSE Dean wasn't unbreakable. Sam shook his head. Logically he knew that Dean was a human being and up until this point he would have sworn that he understood Dean's limitations and never expected his brother to handle everything. In fact, up until this point he would have sworn that he continuously went out of his way to try to get Dean to talk about things (especially after their father's death) so that Dean didn't _have_ to handle things on his own. But when Dean yelled about how Sam thought that he was perfect and how he wasn't unbreakable, it came as a shocking revelation.

Sam still stared at the wall…he really _had_ thought, on some level, that Dean could handle anything. He really _had_ believed that… and the fact that Dean couldn't… Sam felt guilty as hell. How could he have actually believed that there was nothing that would faze his brother. Thinking about it more though, of course he had believed that. Dean had taken care of him his whole life, and Sam had depended on Dean and looked up to him his whole life. Of course he thought Dean was all-powerful and indestructible…and Dean had known it. Sam shook his head again. Had he really been inadvertently putting that much pressure on his brother? And then Sam nodded, "Yes."

As he considered where to go from here, how to best help Dean, Sam continued to clean himself off and get changed. Considering the amount of mud and soot on him, it took awhile, but by the time he was finished, he at least had a plan for Dean. Not one of his best plans, but a plan nonetheless. He'd just have to back off for awhile, use humor to try to lighten Dean's mood, give Dean some space to recover. Sam thought of possibly going out of his way to be independent, but given his current state, that was unlikely. And in reality, Dean probably wouldn't want that anyway…as much as pressure and responsibility went along with Dean's familial role, Sam knew that his brother took great pride in protecting Sam and having Sam look up to him…and besides, Sam couldn't stop looking up to Dean even if he wanted to.

Incredibly tired…and worried, Sam staggered out of the bathroom. Dean, having finished Sam's job of collecting wood, was now crouched in front of a roaring fire. Upon seeing Sam come out of the bathroom, Dean made his way over, "Hey. You need a hand?"

Sam shook his head and sat down on his own bed. "Feels dry now."

Dean nodded and looked down at the floor…an awkward silence stretched between them. Finally Sam spoke again, "Thanks for helping me get back inside."

Still looking at the floor Dean nodded, "Yeah well. I should've brought more wood in before."

It was no more your responsibility than mine…but Sam didn't voice it out loud. Not too long ago he had been angry with Dean for not having cleaned the fireplace or replaced the wood… a subtle symptom of their ingrained roles. Sam was sick, so Dean should do everything…except that Dean wasn't well either, although for other reasons.

More silence stretched between them.

Dean spoke, "I bought some stir fry in a bag…you want?"

Sam shook his head and laid down. "No thanks." Dean turned towards the kitchenette, but Sam called him back. "Hey Dean?"

Dean still looked down at the floor, speaking with a sigh, "Yeah?"

"What happened to your other hand?"

Dean looked down at his left palm, and responded in a distracted manner, "Oh, uh, the fly from your neck wanted a piece of Dean meat…burrowed itself half way in before I lit the sucker." Dean looked up, "Burnt my hand along with it."

Sam grimaced in sympathy. "You put holy water on it?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded, "Hurt like a bitch."

Sam nodded again, so Dean had had some of the poison enter him for a short period of time…again. That explained some of Dean's irritability, and hopefully that would be over soon. Sam looked down and noticed the splint on his brother's finger. He nodded to it, "Nice splint."

Dean lifted his hand looking at the finger splint, "Bought it at the general store. Vet helped me align the bone."

Sam sat up startled, "Align the bone?"

Dean nodded and began walking towards the kitchenette. "It wasn't your fault Sam."

Sam stared in shock, he had _broken_ Dean's finger?! "I'm sure my twisting it didn't help."

Dean shrugged and poured the stir fry out of the bag and into a pan. "You sure you don't want?" Dean turned back to see Sam's response and noticed Sam staring at him with a distraught and guilty expression.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Sam. I'm not in the mood. Don't make me keep repeating myself."

For Dean's sake, Sam removed the guilty look from his face although the feelings remained. He laid back down on his bed wallowing in guilt. Not only had he broken Dean's finger, but earlier today he had vengefully wished that Dean's finger would be painful. Sam put his hands over his face…he should win an award for crappiest, most ungrateful brother ever.

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Dean stirred the food in the pan while silently yelling at himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why the hell couldn't he keep his mouth shut? Sam didn't need this. Sam should be putting all of his energy into getting better, not worrying about Dean's state of mind.

Dean ran a broken hand through his hair and exhaled. He had to get it together. He was so out of control at this point that he was literally shaking from it…so much so that a nearly delirious Sam had noticed.

So he had had a deathbed conversation, so he had truly believed for a moment that he would fail Sam and be unable to save him, so his life was in chaos…so what? He still had Sam and therefore, he still had a family, and a friend. Somewhere, a mocking voice in his head responded, and without Sam you have no family or friends.

"Shut up!" Quickly, Dean turned around to make sure he hadn't woken his brother with his outburst. Sam rolled over on the bed, but thankfully remained asleep. Dean turned back to the sizzling food and turned off the stove.

How the hell was he going to save Sam from the demon…killing Sam wasn't an option- he had to _save_ Sam. Save him from whatever the hell it was that the demon wanted with him…but that brought Dean back to the question that had constantly been running through his head since the day their father died: what if he couldn't? What if there was nothing he could do to save his brother? Not that he wasn't impressed by Sam's 'I'm responsible for myself and won't turn evil speech,' but if the past few days proved nothing else, shit happens. And when it came down to it…even if Sam was responsible for himself, _Sam _wouldn't be the one living with failure. If Sam turned evil, then he'd be evil…with no regrets. _Dean_ would be the one faced with knowing that he had failed Sam, remembering what Sam was like before and knowing what he had turned into. He had almost lost Sam yesterday…and that was to a dead Greek god manifesting as maggots. And if he had almost lost Sam to a bunch of maggots, imagine what the demon…the thing that killed their _father_, the greatest hunter in the world…imagine what that demon could do.

Dean shook his head, he could barely handle yesterday…if he _was_ handling yesterday. He _knew_ he couldn't handle loosing Sam to the demon…or to his evil destiny. Sam's destiny may be to become evil, but it was Dean's destiny to save him…even if it meant handing his soul over to a dead Greek god. Because really, he could no longer handle the hopelessness and the pressure that life was throwing at him and in the end his father was right; he had to save Sammy…NOTHING else mattered.

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It wasn't until early the next morning that Sam awoke. This time feeling _considerably_ better than he had the day before. Looking to his left, he saw Dean sleeping face down in his bed. Sam nodded to himself, today he had to put his plan into action, he needed to do _something_ to help Dean.

Getting dressed with a lot more ease than he had had in two days, Sam left a note for his brother and then walked outside to the main bunkhouse to get some flour, sugar, and milk. Today…he was making pancakes. Sam hoped this worked. Based on past experience, he had never made an edible batch of pancakes…and normally he was a fine cook, but for whatever reason, once a batter was involved, any and all cooking skill went out the window. But the fact was, Dean was sick (in a matter of speaking) and pancakes were his favorite. So at the very least, Sam had to _try _to make them. Besides, if the pancakes didn't cheer Dean up, he didn't know what would.

Fortunately for Sam, not only did the main bunkhouse have all the needed pancake ingredients, but it also had imported Vermont maple syrup to boot. Sam smiled as he walked back to the cabin holding an armful of bags. The sun was just rising and the temperature outside was beautiful. In fact, the entire forest was beautiful. With all the rain, wind, and mud, Sam hadn't noticed how beautiful the forest was before now.

The sun's morning rays pierced through the leaves on the trees causing the rays of light to be visible as they shone down onto lit areas of the forest floor. The morning birds sang and flew overhead. Moss covered the forest floor, creating a soft, green carpet for Sam to walk on. Yellow wildflowers grew everywhere they could, creating a beautiful but stark contrast to the forest's green floor. Even the air smelled beautiful, the scent of pine filling Sam's nose with every breath.

As Sam reentered the cabin, he was pleased to see that Dean was still sleeping. Crumpling up his note, Sam began cooking their breakfast. Just as he finished the first batch of pancakes, he heard a moan from Dean's bed. Looking over, Sam watched as Dean stretched and rubbed his eyes. Then Dean looked up with an annoyed/confused look on his face, "Dude. What the hell are you doing?"

Sam resisted a groan. Carrying out his plan was going to be harder than he thought. "_I_…am making pancakes."

Dean rubbed his eyes again and looked around, "What the hell time is it?"

Sam shrugged, "Don't know, didn't look, but the sun's up. Actually it's a really nice day outside."

For a moment, Dean stared at his brother with a look of disbelief on his face. Then, without a word, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Sam sighed…Dean really was upset.

Sam was just finishing the second (and last) batch of pancakes, flipping them in the air as Dean exited the bathroom and made his way over to the coffee that Sam had perking on the stove. Sam put a plate of pancakes and syrup in front of his brother as Dean sat down. Almost immediately, Dean pushed the plate away.

Sam questioned his brother, trying not to be annoyed, "You don't want pancakes?"

Dean stared into his coffee, "Does it _look_ like I want pancakes?"

Sam made no response but just stared at his brother. He knew that Dean was upset, but really…

Finally, Dean seemed to sense that he was being stared at and looked up. Then he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry Sam. I'm just not hungry."

Sam put the jug of syrup on the table and pushed the plate back towards his brother. "Eat them anyway."

Dean's face grew angry, but Sam cut him off before he could speak. "Dean, just try them…I used your recipe."

Dean raised his eyebrows looking somewhat amused, "Okay first…I don't have recipes. You make me sound like an eighty year old woman. And second…dude, your pancakes taste like shit."

Sam crossed his arms and glared down at his brother, talking back in the same condescending tone, "Okay, first…if the shoe fits…and second…you haven't tried them, so you can't comment."

Dean gave a short laugh, "I don't need to try them Sam." Picking up a pancake, Dean flung the round object, as though he was throwing a frisbee, towards a small glass vase in the corner of the room. As the pancake hit the object, the vase shattered into several sharp pieces.

Still holding the spatula and frying pan, Sam just stared blinking at the place where the vase once resided. Off to his right, he heard Dean trying to hold in his laughter. With a glare, Sam slowly turned back to his brother, "You're going to clean that up."

Dean snickered and then stood up. He took the frying pan and spatula out of his brother's hands. "Yeah. I have a better idea. Why don't _you_ clean that up, and I'll cook a breakfast that can't be used as weapons."

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The sounds of forks and knifes scraping the cheap plates resounded through the cabin as the brothers ate Dean's breakfast in silence. Sam's thoughts ran as he licked some syrup off of the fork. He hadn't intended to botch the breakfast. It was true that Dean had always made the pancakes, but Sam had seen him do it a million times, and it was Dean's favorite, so he figured it couldn't be that hard…who knew that the batter was _supposed_ to be liquidy? In the end though, it wasn't all bad. Dean cooking the pancakes (and using Sam's as a Frisbee) had seemed to loosen Dean up just as much as eating the pancakes. Sam let himself slip on a slight smile. It had been nice to see Dean roll his eyes and fling the pancake. Sam missed mocking, fun, sarcastic Dean. Then Sam rolled his own eyes…he actually missed his brother being an ass. Who would've ever thought that would happen?

"Somethin' you wanna share with the class there pal?"

Sam looked up to see Dean staring over at him. For a moment he considered Dean's comment and then- hell no, Sam was not about to tell Dean that he missed him being a sarcastic ass. Sam shook his head in response to Dean's question, and then changed the subject. "So, ah, what are we going to do about Orpheus?"

Dean sat back in his chair, making designs in the left over syrup with his fork. "Don't know." Then he shrugged and sighed, "We can do what you said and turn the well water into holy water. Maybe that'll stop Orpheus from being able to infect people."

Sam looked confused, "I said that? When did I say that?"

Dean looked up briefly before returning his eyes to the syrup, "You don't remember?" He shrugged again. "You were half asleep."

Sam sat back, his heart pulling at him. He could very rarely remember seeing Dean look so depressed. Normally a depressed Dean was an angry Dean, and there was _some_ of that here, but _this_ Dean…this Dean was sad…and nothing upset Sam more than sad Dean. Dean wasn't built to be sad…

Sam tried to redirect his brother again, "Dean…even if we turn the water to holy water, Orpheus will still be around. He'll just find another way to come back…"

Dean looked up, his dull eyes meeting his brother's, "You want to destroy him?"

Sam blanched, shocked at the question, "Isn't that what we do?"

Dean shrugged again, but didn't break the eye-contact, "I though you said he was nice?"

Sam's face reflected concern and confusion…he _hated_ that Dean wasn't acting like himself. "I thought _you_ said he was evil…that he'd killed 32 people."

Dean nodded and returned to playing in the syrup. "Yeah. I did. I just didn't think you'd want to destroy him."

Sam through his hands up, "Dean. Why the hell not?"

Dean looked up again, "I don't know. You're always going on about how we need to make sure the supernatural thing is evil before we go after it."

Sam stared at his brother, an unreadable look on his face. Responding to the look, Dean put his hands up in surrender and then stood up collecting the dishes. "It's fine by me man. I've got no problem sending that piece of shit down to Hell…or Hades…or wherever the hell he's from."

Dean began washing the dishes as Sam sat pondering his brother's words. Then, just as Dean finished with the pan, Sam spoke. "Dean? What's going to happen to all the people who took Orpheus' deal, I mean, once we destroy him? You think they'll go to Hell?"

Dean turned around looking somewhat annoyed, "I have no idea. How the hell would I know Sam?"

Sam raised his hands and backed up in his chair, "I'm just asking. It's just…it's not fair. They were essentially murdered, then they were offered a deal to be able to save the people they loved, which anyone, except apparently me, would take, and then they get sent to hell for it. And then half of them wouldn't have even gotten the chance to save anyone. It's just…it's not right."

Dean walked over and leaned his injured hands on the back of his chair. "Life's not fair Sam. People get murdered everyday…it sucks, but that's life. Life sucks. And if you make a deal to cheat death, you run the risk of being called on it."

Sam looked up at his brother, annoyed by Dean's attitude, "That's great coming from you."

Dean let go of the chair and stood up, "Look, I didn't ask you to save me the first time." He held his arms out wide and stepped back, "I didn't ask dad to save me the second time. I was ready to go. It was _you_ who manipulated the reaper Sam. Not me."

Sam stood up, affronted by Dean's accusation, "So what are you saying? That _I'm_ going to hell cause I wanted to save your life? I didn't know Dean. I thought Roy was the real deal, I didn't know what Sue Ann was doing…and I had no idea what dad was up to…"

Deflated Dean raised his hand to stop his brother, "I'm not saying you did anything wrong. I'm just saying…it wasn't _me_ who tried to cheat death. People just did it on my behalf."

Sam held up his hands, "Fine. But Dean, sending all those people to Hell, it just doesn't feel right."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Didn't we just have this discussion? Didn't I just say that I was surprised that you wanted to destroy him?"

Sam nodded, "But I didn't think about the others."

Dean looked up at the ceiling, annoyed, "You know, I don't get you Sam. The whole time since we've been here, you've been complaining about the 'evil invisible people' with their 'evil invisible smiles,' and now you feel sorry for them."

Sam nodded, "Yeah well, that was before I almost was one of them Dean. And you said yourself that you would've taken the deal. They gave up their souls to help their descendents, and we're going to take that away from them."

Dean scowled, "I _would_ take that deal, but I'd also know that in accepting it, I'm taking a risk."

Ignoring Dean's admission that he would still take the deal, Sam argued his point, "Yeah, but that's the thing Dean, you'd _know_ that you were taking a risk…these people, they were charmed into it. They were manipulated by Orpheus."

Dean held out his hands in a 'so what' expression. "Well then, maybe they'll get out of Hell on a technicality. Where they go when they're not roaming the Earth anymore isn't up to us."

Sam argued again, "But they're not hurting anyone."

Dean became incensed, "So you want to just leave Orpheus here now? Make up your damn mind Sam. First you like him, then you want him destroyed, and now what? Now you want us to leave him? You said yourself that even if we bless the water, he'll just find another way to regenerate himself."

Sam sighed, Dean was right. "I know; we have to destroy them. It's just…I just feel bad."

Dean rolled his eyes, "So what else's new? Sammy, the bleeding heart of all things supernaturally half-evil. Of course, that's a good role for you since you're not too far from that yourself."

Sam winced; that was a low blow. Normally, he'd sulk after that one, or at the very least kick Dean's ass, but he wasn't up for another wrestling match with his brother…and really, Dean hadn't meant it. It was just another symptom of Dean's pain.

Sam's plan of distracting Dean was clearly not working…and if he were one hundred percent himself, he may have been able to handle depressed Dean better. But Sam wasn't at one hundred percent, and based on his fainting episode of last night, he was lucky to be at fifty percent. He understood that Dean was hurt, and he was more than willing to help Dean in any way that he could, but being hurt himself, he needed Dean to work with him. Sam sighed, his plan wasn't working; he needed a new plan. So far he had tried fighting with Dean, reassuring Dean, comforting Dean, arguing with Dean, and distracting Dean…and none of those had helped. There was only one thing left to try, Sam had to be direct, understanding, and honest.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked at his brother, "Dean. I get that you're hurting man. I scared you; I get that. And I know the situation with the demon and me and what I might become, I know it's putting a lot of pressure on you. And I'm sorry. I swear to God I'm sorry. I'd do _anything_ to fix this situation for you, but I can't. If we're going to survive this, we need to do it together. And I need you to pull it together man. Please…I need my sarcastic, short-tempered, impulsive, sex-crazed, egotistical, older brother back."

Dean stared at his brother, arms crossed, an irritated look on his face. "Dude, I am not impulsive."

Sam raised his eyebrows, of course _impulsive_ would be the one that Dean would disagree with.

Dean continued speaking, "I just don't have all day to wait for you to make a decision. Should I bring the twenty two, should I bring the forty five? But the twenty two is more concealable, but the forty five has bigger bullets, but the twenty two has less recoil, but the forty five fits my hand better. Dude, their both guns, they both shoot bullets and they'll both kill. Sometimes you just need to pick a gun and go with it."

Sam smiled, now _that_ was the Dean he knew…

The smile left Dean's face and he looked at Sam serious, "I am working on it Sam…and I'm sorry man, about what I just…"

Sam shook his head cutting him off, "You didn't mean it…and I know you are; I'm just not used to you being like this."

Dean scoffed and began walking towards the beds, "Yeah well, don't get too comfortable with it."

Sam's smile grew.

Dean pulled out a set of rosary beads from his bag and turned back to Sam, "You up for a trip?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, "You know, I'm dying to find out if our well fire worked…"

Dean smiled, threw the beads up and then caught them with the same hand. "Well then, let's go. But do me a favor Sammy…don't use the term 'I'm dying' for awhile."

A cross between startled and amused, Sam nodded and followed his brother out the door.

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_Okay- only a few left...hopefully you'll keep reading! Lemme know if you like this chapter...please?_


	21. Cleansing The Well

_REALLY close to the end now…thanks so much for having stuck with this story. All of you who are continuing to read and/or review, you make me so happy- you have no idea…_

_**AcidChic: **Lol…glad you liked it and yeah- the old Dean starting to shine right on through!  
**Anon: **If you're talking about his 'depressedness' then yeah, that was poison spawned, but it's pretty much cleared by now. As for doing something stupid- yeah there's that, but that's not what gets him into trouble…  
**Spuffyshipper: **I never mind an extra review! So sorry that you had to hear that…you need to go get an ipod or something with loud music and headphones…  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Well, he had to get better sometime…he needs to share the angst…  
**Brokenwind: **There's more happy Dean in the future…and he's not too sad in this chapter, just more cautious and protective, but then, so is Sam.  
**Fiona: **Giant hug back! And so glad you liked it! Lots more sarcasm to come!!_

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**Chapter 21: Cleansing The Well**

As the brothers drove into town, Sam watched his brother. Every turn of the wheel had Dean wincing…most likely due to the movement of his injured hands. Finally, after five minutes of watching Dean wince, Sam asked a stupid question, "Dean, you want me to drive?"

Dean shot his brother a look before returning his eyes to the road. "I'm not even going to dignify that question with an answer."

Sam sighed, "Dean, I just…"

Dean immediately cut his brother off, "Sam, I swear to God if you say you feel guilty one more time, I'm going to find a demonic maggot and shove it up your ass."

Immediately Sam shut his mouth and turned towards the passenger window with a look of disgust. He hadn't needed that mental image…

Finally, the brothers reached the town and parked outside of Molly's diner.

"Huh…"

Dean turned to see Sam still staring out the passenger window, presumably looking at the diner. "What huh?"

Sam turned to his brother, "I can still see him."

Dean's face took on a startled expression, "What do you mean you can still see him? Him who?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Bobby. You remember, Mr. Invisible of the blueberry pie?" Upon seeing Dean's shocked/fearful expression, Sam moved to reassure his brother. "Relax Dean. He's kind of faded, I'm guessing that there's still a little poison in me that's on its way out…explains why I've been so tired."

Dean nodded and stepped out of the car, "I'm perfectly relaxed Sammy. Never been better."

Sam scoffed, "Right."

Dean ignored his brother, and gathering their equipment, made his way over to the well. Sam followed in suit.

Once they were at the well, Dean turned to his brother, "Are you really up for this? Because there's no rush…"

"Says the man who just the other day insisted we had no time to check out the second well entrance."

Dean grew annoyed and threw the equipment onto the floor. "We _didn't _have time the other day to check out the other well entrance, Sam. You were dying. We didn't have time to be fooling around."

Sam raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, "Dean. I don't think getting more information about the well could be considered 'fooling around'."

Dean glared at his brother, "Right Sam, because we learned so much from that experience. Let's see…we learned that new well entrances look like storm cellars…we learned that well pumps have switches, we learned that I don't carry an industrial sized pipe wrench in my pocket, and we learned that even though you got straight 'A's in school, you think that water can catch on fire. You're right…that was a huge help…"

Sam glared back at Dean's sarcasm, "Look, I know you wanted to destroy the well as fast as possible, but I just think it's safer to have more information."

Dean sighed and picked up a chisel and a hammer, "I'll give you a maybe for normal circumstances, but those weren't normal circumstances Sammy…and if our positions had been reversed, I seriously doubt you would've wanted to spend time hanging out at the other well entrance."

Sam paused to consider Dean's comment, and of course, Dean was right. If their positions had been reversed, Sam would've wanted to do as much damage to the well as quickly as possible in the hopes of ending the maggot problem. Sam's thoughts were interrupted by Dean handing him a flame-thrower.

"Ok, you know the drill."

Sam nodded and watched carefully as Dean tried to pry out the wedged chisel. Using a hammer to knock the side of the chisel, Dean tried to loosen the plug from it's tight fit. The chisel wiggled and Dean pulled on it…immediately Dean winced and gasped. He had been using his left hand (his right unable to fully close), but clearly the burns on his hand made it difficult to grip the chisel. Rolling his eyes, Sam walked around his brother before crouching down in front of him. Dean barely had a chance to look up before Sam pushed the flame-thrower into Dean's hand, likewise pushing Dean away from the chisel.

Dean went to argue, but Sam cut him off, "You don't want me to feel guilty? Then stop doing things that hurt your hands and make you wince."

Dean appeared indignant as he watched his brother try to pry out the now loosened chisel. "I didn't wince Sam. You're seeing things."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Must have been hallucinating then…just like I did with the invisible people, right Dean?"

Dean winced again, "Hey. I already apologized for that. And if I can forgive you for almost dying and biting off my finger, I think you should be able to forgive me."

Sam rolled his eyes, still tugging on the wedged chisel. His brow now covered in the sweat of exertion, he answered Dean between gasps, "I did…forgive you."

Dean shook his head and rammed his side into his brother's effectively pushing Sam out of the way. "Well then forgive yourself too Sam, 'cause your getting on my nerves."

Putting down the flame-thrower, Dean wrapped both injured hands around the chisel and pulled with all his might. Almost immediately the chisel broke free, sending Dean back onto his ass. The pain in his hands was excruciating and for a moment Dean could only see the spots in front of his eyes. But then the pain decreased and the spots cleared, giving Dean a view of the well wall and his brother, now brandishing the flame-thrower.

Sam turned back to him, "That was stupid. You should've let me do that."

Dean grimaced as he sat up. "Keep your eyes on the hole Sam, we don't need anymore demonic insects infecting anyone."

Standing up, Dean reached over and grabbed the other flame-thrower, prepared for action…but none came. For over two minutes the brothers sat, weapons at the ready, staring at the hole…however, no demonic flies flew out. Dean nodded as he lowered his weapon, "See, what did I tell you…the fire in the well worked!"

Sam nodded, also lowering his weapon, "For the flies…but whatever's creating them is still in the water."

Dean agreed and moved forward, crouching down so that he was in front of the hole in the well. Then he pulled the rosary beads out of his pocket and held them up. "That's why we have these."

Sam crouched next to his brother, "Do we need to break open the top too, or you think this'll work from the side?"

Dean considered Sam's question. Normally they blessed water from above it, while looking at the water, but theoretically, there was no reason they couldn't bless the water from the side as well. Dean turned to his brother, "Well, only one way to find out…"

Holding the rosary beads up in front of the hole in the well wall, Dean began reciting the memorized blessing. Once he had finished, he slipped the rosary beads through the crack in the wall cross first. The cross dangled down on the other side of the wall and as Dean released the beads, the cross' weight pulled them down until five seconds later they hit the water with a splash.

Almost immediately a low rumble was hurt and the ground began to shake. Dean looked over at his brother, "Guess it worked."

Sam nodded, falling backwards as he lost his balance. A whining noise began emanating from the well, followed by the sounds of bubbles coming up from the water. All around them the ground shook shaking the ivy off the well wall and sending a shower of pine needles down from the nearby forest. As the earthquake continued, both brothers stayed seated on the ground, knowing that they'd never be able to remain standing if they tried to get up. Were they were was probably the safest place as there was nothing above them…unless there was a sink hole…

Concerned with that thought, Dean turned to his brother, from his criss-cross position on the ground, "How far down you say the aquifier was?"

Sam, still leaning back on his elbows from when he fell backwards, scrunched his brow in thought, "Uh, probably about 25 feet (8 m). Dean, why?"

Dean took in a breath, "Just calculating our chances of ending up falling into maggot-filled holy water…"

Now Sam looked concerned. He yelled back to his brother over the loud rumbling, "We shouldn't…I don't think…"

Dean stared, the concern not having left his face, "Do me a favor Sammy, next time you're gonna lie, try to sound a little more convincing."

Sam said nothing, but looked into the nearby forest at the falling tree branches. "It must be cleansing the whole aquifier…the quake's going into the forest."

Dean nodded in agreement and then nodded over at the house. "The house seems clear of it though…I'd imagine you're pretty pleased…"

Sam shot his brother a glare, but before he could say anything, a loud explosion came from the house and water, dirt, and grass began shooting up out of the ground in a line from the forest to Molly's diner.

Dean turned back to his brother with a shrug, "Take it back…pipe burst."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's casualness at the burst pipe…although Dean was right, a burst pipe wouldn't kill anyone…unless the water was still infected. "Dean!"

Dean turned quickly at the panicked sound in Sam's voice. Sam continued, "If that water's still infected…"

Dean cut his brother off, "Still infected? What are you kidding me? " Dean indicated the area around them with his hands, "Uh Sam…giant _earthquake…_spawned when we blessed the water…"

Just as Sam began to speak, the earthquake rumbled to a stop, "I noticed!" The sudden quiet arose mid statement making Sam's declaration sound loudly out of place. Sam cringed at the volume of his voice.

Dean just stared at his brother with raised eyebrows. After watching Sam squirm for a moment under his stare, Dean suppressed a laugh and stood up. Then he reached out a hand to help Sam up. Sam shook his head and stood up on his own, "Your hands Dean…"

Dean looked down at his outstretched hand before letting it drop back to his side, "Right. Forgot."

Sam shook his head watching as the water, which had been shooting up from the burst pipe in the ground, dwindled to a soggy stop. "See, now aren't you glad we went to the other well site?"

Slowly Dean turned to Sam, with a confused/disbelieving look. Somewhat intimidated by his brother's expression, Sam meekly pointed at the now muddy ground offering the explanation behind his last statement, "You know, 'cause we shut off the pump… and now there's less water… 'cause there's only the water that was in the pipe… you know?"

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away. "We need to go check out the house. Molly's probably having a calf right about now…" He looked over at the barn, "...or a lamb."

And with that, both brothers made their way through the holy mud and back towards the house.

Once they had reached the back of the diner, the brothers could hear the yelling coming from the inside. Immediately, both brothers stepped up their trudge to a run and ran into the diner through the back door.

The kitchen was a mess. Molly and Charlotte were standing in the middle of it futilely laying dish towels down in an attempt to soak up the flood that covered the kitchen's wooden floor. Molly yelled as she pushed the sodden dish towel across the set floor with her foot, "Charlotte, I ain't tellin' you again! I ain't gonna watch you die too, now you git!"

Charlotte moved to argue, but Dean cut her off, "Your mother's right Charlotte. Sam and I think we fixed the water problem, but no need to take chances. We'll help your mother with the pipe. You go wash off with Pepi's water."

Charlotte, now red faced and speechless apparently due to the fact that Dean had spoken to her, quickly nodded and ran out of the kitchen.

Molly sighed, close to tears, and stopped moving the soaked dishrag. She then looked up at the boys with a sad expression, "What did you boys do?"

It was a brokenhearted accusation and both brothers visibly winced. Despite his outward lack of concern for Molly's home, Dean felt bad about having inadvertently hurt Molly. Dean tried his best to defend himself, "We tried to clean the illness from the well and the pipe burst."

Molly nodded, her face looking somewhat hopeful. "You think the water's safe now?"

Dean shrugged, "We don't know yet. We'll help you get this cleaned up and then I'll try the water and we'll see what happens."

Sam interrupted his brother, "Uh Dean? That's gonna be a little difficult considering that there's no pipe to bring the water into the house."

Dean bit his lip, "Yeah. I didn't think of that." Then, shrugging off Sam's revelation, Dean turned back to Molly with an optimistic expression. "If I have to, I'll take the water directly from the well. Don't worry Molly, by the time we leave, your water will be safe to drink."

Molly nodded, still looking troubled, "There's another pipe that brings the water to the animals. It's a bigger pipe, from what I saw it didn't bust…"

Dean nodded, understanding what Molly was getting at, "I'll test the water from there after we help you clean up here."

Sam corrected his brother, "_One_ of us will test the water from there…"

Dean scowled, "Sam…"

Sam matched his brother's warning, "Dean…"

Dean turned to face his brother, "You're not doing it."

The statement was final, but Sam wasn't accepting it. "Well then we've got a problem because you're not doing it either, and we can't have someone else do it."

Dean became angry, "Sam, you just got over the poison…in fact, you _just_ said it was still in you. You're not even recovered yet…"

Sam cut his brother off, "You're not one hundred percent either Dean."

Dean shook his head, "Yeah, but I…"

Dean stopped as Molly voice rang out in the kitchen, "You were poisoned? I thought…but you weren't the one who drank the water. You boys said the food was safe…and…the doc said there was no cure…"

The silence was deafening as both brothers stared at each other, avoiding Molly's gaze. Finally, Sam turned to Molly shaking his head, "Uh, not that kind of poison…"

Dean smiled and interrupted his brother, "Sammy made pancakes." Dean pointed over at his now glaring brother, "He cooks like crap. Gave us both food poisoning. Maybe after all this is over you could teach him how to cook pancakes without turning them into hockey pucks."

Sam squinted his eyes at his brother and Molly sagged in relief. "Hockey pucks? Well, I don't know from pancakes…but I'd be happy to teach 'im how to make some fluffy flapjacks."

Dean smiled a charming smile, "That would be great. You have no idea what it's like living with him…it's like I'm starving to death…"

Sam rolled his eyes, commenting under his breath as he walked past his brother, "Yeah, you're just wasting away…"

Dean spared a second to shoot his brother a retaliatory look before returning to his charismatic grin. Sam spoke to Molly, "Molly? Do you have a wet-vac anywhere?"

Molly slapped her head with her palm before answering Sam. "Well of course I do. I wasn't even thinkin'. Damn earthquake went an' shook me up." Then Molly laughed, "I hadn't even meant that…shook me up? Earthquake?"

Both brothers couldn't help but smile at Molly's brightening attitude as Molly continued, "It's in the closet over there sweetie."

Sam nodded and made his way over to the closet. And Molly turned back to Dean, "So, it wasn't an earthquake? I thought it was funny…havin' an earthquake in the middle of the mountains…but that was you boys…"

Dean cleared his throat, embarrassed, "Uh, yeah, well, we, uh, we put a sanitizer in the well. Kills bacteria and things, but uh, don't worry, it's safe to drink. But, uh, I guess there was some sort of reaction between the sanitizer and the bacteria. Caused pressure to build up, which caused the earthquake and the busted pipe."

Sam looked back at his brother with an expression of complete disbelief. That was the dumbest story he had ever heard…that didn't even make sense. Molly however, nodded, seeming to buy the story. "Since you boys were the ones to go an' break my pipe…I think I'll leave ya'll to finish with the moppin'. That there wet-vac should have it all up in a few minutes anyway. I want to wash myself off."

The brothers nodded and Sam plugged in the vacuum. Then he turned to his brother, "Dude. What the hell was that story?"

Dean raised his hands in a defensive shrug, "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "What the hell kind of sanitizer can be dropped in a well, kill all the bacteria in it, and then leave the water safe to drink?"

Dean stared at his brother for a moment, looking as though the answer was obvious. "Holy water…" Then, still shaking his head at his brother's denseness, Dean turned and walked out the kitchen's backdoor…leaving Sam to clean the floor.

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_If you're thinkin' what I think you're thinkin', you're probably right... make no sense? Tune in for the next update!! And review if you liked this one!!_


	22. Board Games and Greek Isles

_Hey all! REALLY long chapter this time, and to be quite honest, it's not my favorite so I apologize (too many OCs). I also apologize because this was supposed to be the exciting hurt!Dean chapter, but it's not…but I have written the hurt!Dean so I promise you, you'll see it start to unfold in the next chapter…really this time (and there'll be some minor hurt!Sam there too)._

_Um…also, this chapter is so not meant to be offensive. I used five-year-old humor in it. I REALLY apologize if it inadvertently offends anyone._

_One more thing: a lyre is an ancient Greek harp (it's also the emblem for Steinway pianos). The word is pronounced līr (with a long i sound)._

_Thanks for all the reviews! Those bot e-mails completely make my day. So thank you all for being so supportive and taking the time to share your thoughts with me. You really do make a difference in my life.  
**Spuffyshipper: **Thanks! And I agree- I wouldn't want to start that conversation either.  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Here's the next update for you, maybe it'll make sense now…  
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**Chapter 22: Board Games and Greek Isles**

Sam pushed the wet-vac slowly over the floor, watching the puddles of water get sucked up with a gurgling noise. Even when the puddle was gone, the saturated wood still remained wet and Sam knew that if the floor wasn't fully dried quickly, within a week the kitchen would smell of mold.

Sam had finished vacuuming about half the floor when a sudden realization came into his head and he shut off the power on the wet-vac. "Dean, you son of a bitch." Sam really must have still been sick. How could he have missed it?

With a run, Sam exited the kitchen through the diner's backdoor and charged straight for the barn. He got there just in time to see Dean finish drinking a glass of water. Sam barely slowed his run as he grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him into the barn wall. Dean winced and dropped the glass, the barn shook, and the lambs ran into their stalls. As Sam attacked his brother, he noticed Molly, Charlotte, the vet, the mayor/sheriff, and two other townspeople standing in the barn. Presumably they had come to Molly's after hearing the explosion and/or earthquake.

Sam glared into his brother's face. "You piece of shit."

Dean grimaced and pushed at Sam's hands with his own. With a short growl, Sam released his brother and took a step back. Dean smoothed out his shirt before attempting an explanation. "Come on Sammy. You're still sick and you know we couldn't ask one of them to do it. Think man, I'm the only logical choice."

Sam tensed his jaw and his fist. "Shove it Dean. You went behind my back. You didn't even discuss it with me."

Dean pointed his broken finger at his brother with a slight smile. "Now you know that's not true. We talked about it in the kitchen. Hell, Molly was there, she was a witness." Dean looked over at Molly who nodded.

Sam kept his glare fixed to Dean. He was neither placated nor amused. "I've got half a mind to cash in that raincheck that I owe you."

Dean put up his hands in surrender. "Hey, you want to cash in? Take your shot. But think about this…how will you feel when I'm puking up another worm?"

Sam released his fist, but kept the glare. "Better than you will." Sam then turned on his heel and made his way back to the kitchen to finish cleaning the floor. As he walked back, he called out to Molly, "Molly, we're gonna need some fans and hairdryers if you got them."

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An hour and a half later, both brothers, Molly, Charlotte, Charlotte's best friend (Stephanie), the mayor, the vet, and the mayor's wife (Sarah) were all seated in Molly's living room above the diner. Below them, three electric fans were blowing in the kitchen in an attempt to hasten the drying of the floor. The floor was already considerably drier. After Sam had used the wet-vac to eliminate the puddles from the floor, Charlotte, Molly, Stephanie, and Sarah all used their hairdryers to slowly go over the floor, drying the wood as they went along. Now they all were assembled upstairs waiting to see if the brothers truly had cleansed the water and made it consumable once again.

Sam sat next to his brother on Molly's couch. He stared forward as he sat, still having not forgiven Dean for putting himself in danger. He remembered watching Dean vomit the last time and it wasn't something he ever wanted to see again. They sat so close to each other that their legs were touching; so Sam immediately felt when Dean moved to stand up. Still looking forward, Sam reached out his right hand and yanked Dean back down by his shirt. "Sit."

Dean growled and readjusted the shirt, "Dude, I was just going to see how the kitchen was doing."

Sam refused to look at his brother, "Are you feeling ok?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded, "Fine."

Sam nodded, "Then you're not moving. Sit."

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother as the townspeople looked on. "Dude- _I_ am not five years old and _you_ are not da…" Sam's furious glare interrupted Dean's sentence and Dean fearfully cleared his throat, offering a hesitant smile, "Oookay. I think I'll just sit then."

Sam glared for a minute longer and then turned back to staring ahead.

After a minute of silence in the room, Dean began playing the William Tell Overture his feet. After thirty seconds of the song, the vet had joined in with finger snapping and the mayor and Molly clapped along. Sam leaned forward rubbing his temples with a groan. Finally, after two minutes, Sam turned to his brother, "Do you have to do that?"

The makeshift orchestra stopped and Dean sat back. "Well, aren't we a killjoy?"

Sam turned back to looking forward as the room once again resumed its silence as its inhabitants waited. Thirty seconds later Dean spoke up. "So. Who's up for a game of Pictionary?"

Charlotte and her friend smiled as Charlotte answered, "I have it! You want me to go git it?"

Molly waved her daughter down, "Now he was just kiddin' around Charlotte."

Dean shook his head, "No I wasn't. I'm bored out of my mind waiting for something to happen. Go get the game."

Charlotte squealed and ran off, only to return ten seconds later with the game in hand. "Steph and I are on your team!"

Dean smiled and Charlotte began unpacking the game. "Fine by me so long as Sam's _not_ on my team. With how mopey he's being, his guesses will suck."

Sam turned to his brother, in annoyed disbelief. "You're not serious."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Well, don't get so upset Sammy…" Then he threw an arm around his brother, "If you really want to, you can be on my team."

Sam gave a frustrated growl and threw his brother's arm off of his shoulder, "I meant about the game."

Dean grew annoyed, "What is your problem man? You're pissed I drank the water; fine. But there's nothin' you can do about it. So get over it Sam. You're bringing everyone down."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. Get over it? From the man who had spent the past few days stating one-word utterances and sulking in depression? He had to be kidding. Sam stood up and stared down at his brother with his arms held out wide, "I'm sorry Dean. You'll have to excuse me. I forgot how 'freaking perfect' you are. You always manage to keep that upbeat attitude no matter how worried you are. Right Dean? You never get upset …"

Anger and warning flashed through Dean's eyes and Sam immediately got the message. Dean still wasn't entirely over his trauma; he was putting on a show. Dean _was_ upset, but he was acting upbeat for the townspeople. With a frustrated and reluctant sigh Sam sat back down. Taking a breath to try to relax away some of his worry, Sam followed his brother's example. "So who's team am I on?"

Dean flashed a wide grin and clamped his injured left hand on Sam's shoulder, "That's the spirit Sammy."

As Charlotte doled out pads, pencils, and cards, Sam quietly turned to his brother. "Dean? Really. How do you feel?"

Dean glanced at his watch before looking at Sam, "It's been two and a half hours. Last time I was puking in two… I feel fine Sam. Really. I'll tell you if I don't. I don't really want to do it in front of everyone anyway. And besides, I'm gonna need you to destroy it if it gets too big like the last time."

Sam nodded, "I've got your back. Just let me know when."

Dean nodded before looking Sam over, "How do _you_ feel?"

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I'm really tired."

Dean looked around quickly before turning back to Sam, "You want to take a nap in Molly or Charlotte's room?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Now who's treating who like they're five?"

"Whom"

Sam blinked at his brother, confused, "What?"

Dean shook his head, "Who's treating _whom_… you said 'who'."

Sam stared in disbelief, "Seriously, who are you and what have you done to my brother?"

Dean did a mock impression of his sophomore year English teacher, "Proper grammar is what turns language into art."

Sam's brows drew together, "Fortuitously…personification…whom…and now 'proper grammar is what turns language into art'? Christo."

Dean smiled and rolled his eyes, "It wouldn't hurt you to expose yourself to a little culture every once and awhile Sammy."

Sam slid a foot away from Dean on the couch, still looking at his brother as though Dean were possessed. "Culture?" Sam nodded and raised his eyebrows, "Like 'word of the day' toilet paper…"

Dean looked up, "Oh! That reminds me! It's four-three."

Sam quickly shook his in surprise. "What?! Since when? Last I checked it was three-three."

Dean nodded, "That was before you bit me."

Sam rolled his eyes, "That doesn't count. It's embarrassing moments only."

Dean seemed to consider the point before nodding in conclusion, "Ok, well, if it wasn't embarrassing for you, then I'm sure you won't mind me telling everyone in the room what you did then. Will you Sammy?"

All of a sudden the room went quiet and everyone looked at Dean expectantly. Charlotte asked the question. "Tell us what? What did he do?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, a light, crooked smile on his face as he stared at Sam in challenge.

Finally Sam rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the couch. "Fine. Four-three."

Dean gave a short "Ha!" before turning his attention to the game- completely unaware of the devious smile that grew on his brother's lips. With a knowing look thrown at his brother, Sam called over to the vet, "Hey doc?"

The vet turned, along with the rest of the room. "You remember when you took Dean's temperature?"

Dean turned wide-eyed at his brother and the vet nodded. Sam smiled more as he continued, "What kind of animal did you exam with that thermometer before Dean?"

Confused as to where the questioning was going, the vet looked around before answering, "Mrs. Kessler's ass."

Immediately, Sam burst out laughing and Dean resisted the urge to throw up- due to non-supernatural reasons. Somewhere in the background one of the teenagers spoke, "You don't mean like her actual butt do you?"

The vet shook his head and Molly answered, "No Stephanie. He means her donkey. You know Martini."

Sam paused to catch his breath and clarify Molly's statement, "Wait…wait…she's got an ass named Martini?"

Molly nodded and the vet, having partially caught on, spoke up, "I did sanitize the thermometer first. I would never…"

Dean interrupted the humiliating conversation by holding up a hand. He gave the room a tight smile and quick nod, "That's great. Wonderful. Now that I feel like puking…" He turned with a glare to Sam, "…for reasons that have _nothing_ to do with the well water, can we play the game?"

A few chuckles scattered through the room and everyone nodded. As Charlotte reviewed the rules, Sam hand motioned and mouthed to his brother, 'four-four'. Dean squinted his eyes at Sam before turning his head. This war was not over.

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"Aw, he looks so peaceful…"

Dean looked over at where Stephanie was staring at his sleeping sibling. The girl was right, Sam did look peaceful, and Dean was happy to see Sam get his rest, even if it meant that Sam slept through the game.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted as the vet called over to him, "Is he alright? He's been asleep for an hour. Is he ill?"

Dean shook his head, "Sammy? He's fine. Just recovering from a bout of food poisoning, uh, unrelated to the diner." Dean gave a quick smile, "I'm sure after this little nap he'll be good as new."

As the townspeople accepted Dean's explanation, Molly spoke, "Dean hun, how are you feeling?"

Dean mentally checked over himself before replying, "I feel fine Molly. And it's been almost four hours…" Dean turned to the vet, "…how long did it take for the other people to get sick?"

The vet shrugged, "I'm not really sure, but it couldn't 've been more than a few hours…that's how we knew it was comin' from the diner…uh…no offense Mol."

Molly waved the comment off as Dean nodded, "Well, last time I was puking within two hours. I think we're good here. I feel fine."

The mayor nodded, "It does sound like it, but just the same, I'm gonna wait 24 hours before givin' an all clear."

The other people in the room nodded and Dean considered the current situation. Even if the well water was clean, that didn't necessarily mean that Orpheus was over and done with… Dean considered his options. If Orpheus wasn't gone, they'd need to end his existence; otherwise he could easily reinfect the water…or something else. The only question was, how would they end him?

Dean turned to Molly, "Hey Molly? Sam was reading up on this town on the internet and it said that the diner was built by a man named Orpheus Wendel?"

Molly nodded and smiled, "That's right. That man that pretty much put this town on the map. He built all the original buildings 'round here. Most people here can trace their ancestry back to 'im. In fact Tom's one of his great, great, great grandchildren."

Dean looked over at the mayor/sheriff and smiled, "No kidding?"

Tom smiled, "Yep, Tom Wendel. Good to meet ya."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded, "Yeah…hi." Then he turned back to Molly, "So, was Wendel buried in the local cemetery then?"

Molly shook her head, "No. His wives were, but _he_ was buried by his children…such an awful thing…they couldn't carry his body that far. They buried him in the backyard…supposedly with his two most prized possessions…whatever they were."

The mayor laughed and nodded, "We were always wondering…but then it might 've just been a story. There're a lot of stories flyin' around about him. Some people even used to say that he was a witch or somethin' unnatural."

Dean nodded and frowned in an impressed manner, "Something unnatural, you don't say?"

Molly agreed, "People said he was quite the charmer…he could charm the wings off a fly."

Dean laughed under his breath, "Fitting description…"

Molly grew confused, "What was that?"

Dean shook his head, "Nothin'. So, Molly, you happen to know where in your backyard Mr. Wendel is resting?"

Perplexed Molly nodded slowly, "His children used the well as a headstone, there's a marker on it where they buried him. Why?"

Dean sat back, "Just curious…I hadn't remembered seeing any headstones out there." The room appeared to accept Dean's answer as Dean stood up and stretched. "Alright, well, this was fun, but I think we're gonna go…"

Charlotte cut him off with a whine, "Aw. Do you have ta? I got more games if you want…"

Dean smiled and shook his head, "Nah, sorry Charlotte." He thumbed over at the still sleeping Sam, "I gotta get him back to the cabin."

Charlotte wilted to her chair, clearly disappointed. Molly spoke up, "Dean, Sam can sleep in my room if you wanted ta grab some dinner here…"

Dean shook his head again, "No, that's alright, thanks." He looked around the room, "I'll come by tomorrow and let you all know if the water's clean, but I'm thinking it is."

The townspeople nodded and Dean leaned over and smacked his brother in the back of the head, waking Sam with a start, "Up an' at 'em sunshine."

The teens giggled and Sam groaned, stretched, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then he abruptly stopped and sat up with a start, he looked up at his brother, "Dean?"

Dean understood Sam's sudden panic. "I'm fine dude. We're going, and you'll be happy to know that despite having a comatose teammate, Charlotte, Stephanie, and I won Pictionary."

Sam looked around confused, not remembering when he fell asleep. He turned to Dean for confirmation, "We're going?"

Dean nodded and hit Sam's shoulder, "Get up."

Sam did as he was told and followed his brother downstairs into the diner. The rest of the crowd followed the two brothers- walking into Sam when he suddenly stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Hearing the commotion behind him, Dean turned to find Sam staring uneasily at a downed barstool. Immediately Dean knew what Sam was looking at. Not wanting to call attention to the fact that Sam was seeing ghosts, Dean redirected his brother's attention. "Sam? Come on, we gotta go."

Shaking off Mr. Invisible's image, Sam turned to his brother. A knowing look was shared between them and Sam nodded. With a quick goodbye to the townspeople, the brothers left the diner and made their way to the car.

Sam shook the remains of sleep off as he walked to the car. The sun was just beginning to set, it's pink rays being reflected in the cold evening fog. Remembering his brother's hands, Sam spoke, "Dean, give me the keys."

Dean turned and shot his brother a look of disbelief before opening the driver's door.

Sam pressed the issue, "Dean you can't drive with your hands."

Dean looked over the roof at his brother, "I managed to drive twice in the past two days without a problem."

Sam nodded, interrupting, "Sure, if you call wincing every time you turn the wheel, 'without a problem'."

Dean gave his brother an annoyed look, "Dude, at least I won't pass out and crash us into a tree."

Sam appeared offended, "Dean, I haven't passed out in…"

Dean nodded, "A whole day?" Dean looked at his watch before turning back to his brother, "Actually, not even yet…twenty-two hours. You're right Sam. You're definitely the better candidate for driver here."

Knowing that he'd lost the argument, Sam sighed and got into the car. Once in the car, Dean turned to his brother serious. "So, I think it's safe to say that the water's clean."

Sam nodded, "You really feel okay."

Dean agreed, "Not even a hint of indigestion."

Sam exhaled, relieved. Then he turned back to Dean annoyed, "Don't ever pull that shit again."

Dean rolled his eyes and started the car, changing the subject, "We need to do something about Orpheus. If Blueberry Pie man is around, then so is he and it's only a matter of time before he reinfects the water."

Sam nodded in agreement ad Dean continued speaking. "I spoke with Molly while you were napping." Sam rolled his eyes and Dean continued, "Seems that Orpheus is buried in her backyard…care to guess where?"

Sam answered sarcastically, "Taking a wild shot here, but somewhere near the well?"

Dean nodded, "Yep, right next to it…which is probably how the maggots that were 'feasting on his flesh' ended up in the well water."

Sam thought before turning to his brother, "You're thinking a regular salt and burn?"

Dean nodded and began driving back to the cabin.

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Back at the cabin, Sam immediately pulled out his laptop and began doing research on Orpheus- the Greek god. As Sam read Orpheus' detailed, history, Dean set a fire in the fireplace. Just as Dean had the fire blazing, Sam turned to him with a start, "Lyre!"

Dean looked over at Sam annoyed, "I never lied about anything!"

Sam closed his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, "No…no…I mean lyre…l-y-r-e. Not l-i-a-r."

Dean gave Sam a look, clearly waiting for a more elaborate explanation, and willingly, Sam provided it, summarizing Orpheus' story from the webpage: "Orpheus was the son of Apollo. He was a master of the lyre, given to him by his mother who was a muse. He also was considered to be the greatest poet and musician of all of ancient Greece. It was said that his songs could charm wild beasts and coax even rocks and trees into movement. When the Argonauts had to pass the island of the Sirens, it was Orpheus' music that prevented the crew from being lured to their deaths. When Orpheus' wife, Eurydice, was killed, he went down to the underworld to bring her back. Using his lyre to charm…Hades finally agreed to release Eurydice from the underworld. The only condition was that Orpheus not look at her until they were out. Right before they reached the surface, Orpheus forgot and looked behind him to make sure she was following- at which point she was lost forever. After that, Orpheus returned to the world alone and became a recluse. One day, a group of Maenads, female worshipers of Dionysus, found him singing beneath a tree. They attacked him, throwing rocks and branches at him. However, Orpheus' lyre charmed the inanimate objects, and the rocks refused to strike him. Finally, the Maenads' tore him apart with their own hands. After that, Orpheus' head floated down the river, still singing, and came to rest on the isle of Lesbos, where he founded a religious cult."

Dean stared at his brother with an amused look and raised eyebrows, "An island of lesbos huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes before looking disbelievingly at his brother, "Dean…could you focus here? Orpheus' lyre is what gives him the power to charm…which in essence is ALL of his power. All his power comes from that lyre."

Dean nodded in understanding, "So you think he still has it? I mean, he could've left it on the, uh, island."

Sam shot his snickering brother an annoyed look before responding, "Dean…Lesbos is a Greek island in the Aegean Sea…it has nothing to do with what you're thinking."

Dean nodded, "And what are the people who live on Lesbos called?"

Sam looked at the ceiling, answering reluctantly, through clenched teeth, "Lesbians."

Dean broke out laughing and Sam continued to stare annoyed at the ceiling. Finally, after a minute of listening to Dean's chuckles, Sam spoke, "You know…sometimes you really act like a five year old."

Dean tried to contain his laughter as he answered back, "Oh come on Sammy. Lighten up. Have a sense of humor."

Sam nodded, "I do, but apparently it's more sophisticated than yours."

Dean rebutted that fact under his breath, "Or it's more boring…"

"What?!"

Dean cleared his throat and shook his head, "Nothing. Uh, so we have to destroy the lyre then?"

Sam nodded, looking somewhat unhappy, "The only problem is, it could be anywhere…"

Dean shook his head, "I don't think so."

Sam looked up confused and Dean explained, "Rumor has it old Orpheus got buried with his 'two most valuable possessions'. I'm betting one of them was the lyre."

Sam nodded, now looking hopeful. "You think it burns?"

Dean smiled, "Only one way to find out." He looked at his watch, "Let's get some sleep now, we'll head out to Molly's 'round midnight. We've got to be out of there before the rooster crows…literally."

Sam nodded. "Okay, salt and burn…Dean…what if the lyre's not there?"

Dean raised his eyebrows as he considered the question, "Then…we salt and burn good old Orpheus and spend the rest of the day looking for the lyre." He shot Sam a smile, "Hell, we may even have to travel to Lesbos to find it and I for one am not above traveling for the sake of my job."

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked past his brother and over to his bed, "Why am I not surprised? Only problem is…you can't drive to Greece…which means, you'd never get to Lesbos."

Dean grew indignant, "Hey! I got on that plane in Indianapolis didn't I?"

Sam just stared at his brother with an amused look and Dean sighed, defeated, "Yeah alright. Well, a man can dream."

Sam snickered and hopped under the covers, "Goodnight Dean."

Dean did likewise, "Yeah, bite me."

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_I apologize for the annoying teenage girls, but they live there... next chapter's MUCH better...I promise. And there begins large amounts of hurt!Dean..._


	23. Finding the Lyre

_Alright- I think there's only one chapter to go! So, once again, thank you all for sticking with this extraordinarily long story and not abandoning it…that means so much to me…_

_**Spuffyshipper: **Well, better late than never for the DVR…thanks for reviewing!  
**Georgia: **Wow! That was a lot of reading! I'm glad you found and enjoyed the story. Have no fear, Dean won't lose his charming personality… that was more poison related…  
**Killa: **Hi! Welcome! You like hurt!Dean? It begins in this chapter- here you go…  
**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **Pneumonia? That sucks…Well, I hope you feel better. In the meantime- here's another chapter for you!  
**AcidChic: **Yeah- the end is near…how ominous. I'm glad the last chapter made you laugh though…  
**Fiona: **Glad you found the chapter funny and I'm glad you liked it even if I didn't. I'm happy I made you laugh…  
**Lola: **Hi! Welcome back! Hope you're godson's okay. The mythology stuff is all ture- and there really is an island Lesbos and the people there are called Lesbians (it's actually where the term came from- long story)._

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**Chapter 22: Finding the Lyre**

At precisely midnight, both brothers awoke to the sound of Dean's watch alarm. Sitting up with a groan, Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Off to his right, Dean had sprung out of bed- primed and ready for action. Sam squinted over at the excited grin plastered on his brother's face. They had a night of digging up a one hundred fifty year old grave and yet clearly Dean was looking forward to it. A sudden thought occurred to Sam and he laid back in his bed with a groan, covering his face with his hands.

Dean looked over from where he was rummaging through his bag, "Dude, what's wrong with you?"

Sam moved his hands from his face and sighed up at the ceiling, "It just occurred to me that your hands are injured."

Dean raised his eyebrows in a disbelieving look, "That _just_ occurred to you?"

Sam shook his head and sat back up, looking over at his brother, "There's no way you can dig the grave."

Dean pulled his hands from his bag with a thoughtful expression, "Oh. Right." Dean looked down at his hands, turning them over to examine all angles before shrugging, "Maybe I can't the whole time, but I can do some of it."

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed, "Dean…you can't even drive the car."

Dean pointed accusingly at his brother, "Hey! I don't have a problem with the car. Besides, I managed to chop wood with my hands like this. The grave won't be a problem."

Sam stared at his brother as he remembered seeing the newly chopped wood on the side of the house. At the time Sam had wondered who had chopped the fresh wood…now he knew, although it made no sense. There was already a large pile of chopped firewood on the side of the house. "Dean? There was a whole pile already…why would you chop more? Especially with your hands like that?"

For a brief moment, Dean was taken back to that time, when he had held Sam's life in his hands and had come that close to losing it. The firewood had been an immediate, and necessary outlet for his anger and grief. Realizing that Sam was still looking at him, Dean shrugged and moved back to his bag, "Didn't see the pile. Guess I wasn't paying attention."

Sam eyed his brother disbelievingly before shaking his head and letting the subject drop. Dean may have been able to chop firewood, but Sam wasn't about to let him injure his hands further by digging out a grave…not after what Dean pulled with the water test. It wasn't happening again.

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A half hour after waking, the brothers found themselves standing in Molly's backyard…in front of the well. As Sam dumped and sorted all their gear on the side of the well, Dean pulled out his flashlight and began searching through the ivy on the well wall, looking for Orpheus' marker. Finally, after searching more than half the well, Dean found a carving. "Sam."

Picking up his own flashlight, Sam shone it towards the well wall. "Uh Dean?"

Dean turned, looking up at his brother, "I think I found the marker."

Sam nodded with a concerned look on his face, "That's not all you found."

A confused look from Dean and Sam explained, "The plant you're pushing out of the way…it's poison ivy."

With a start, Dean dropped the plant and the flashlight. Immediately he began wiping his hands on his jacket.

"Dean stop!" Dean froze mid-wipe as Sam, still looking concerned, approached him with a bottle of holy water. "You're just spreading it. Hold out your hands and I'll try to wash it off."

Dean did as he was told and looked on as Sam carefully used the holy water to wash the poison from his brother's hands. Dean whined as he watched the bandages get wet. "Haven't my hands been through enough?"

Sam looked up from concentrating on his task to give his brother an amused, yet sympathetic look. "I think I got most of it off, but you should wipe down your jacket too, before you accidentally touch it and get more of the poison on you."

Dean nodded and followed his brother's instructions as Sam picked up a machete and began hacking the ivy off the side of the well. Within a few minutes, Dean's jacket, and the well wall were clear of the poisonous plant.

Both brothers crouched by the well, flashlights drawn, examining the crude image on the side of the well. Finally Sam spoke, "It's Greek."

Dean nodded, "Shocking."

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored his brother's sarcasm. He pointed to an image above the Greek word, "That's a lyre. You're right Dean. It must have been buried with him."

Dean agreed, "Of course I'm right. Now let's dig up this dead Greek prick."

Sam nodded and picked up a shovel, then, just as Dean went to pick up his own shovel, Sam stepped on the handle- preventing Dean from lifting it. Dean stared at his brother's foot, "Uh, you wanna get off my shovel there Sammy?"

Sam pushed down harder, pressing the shovel into the mud. "Dean…I know we argue about a lot of things, and I know you can be a stubborn jackass, but you're not digging this grave."

Annoyed, Dean stood up and glared at his brother, "Sam, how many hours did you sleep today? Eighteen?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't care." He pushed the shovel down further. "I'm serious about this Dean."

Dean glared harder, his annoyance turning into anger as he stared down his brother. "Sam…yesterday the task of carrying firewood caused you to pass out. You want to help me? Well you're not going to be much of a help when you're unconscious."

Sam nodded, Dean had a point, but he felt CONSIDERABLY better than he had the day before, and Dean was CLEARLY more injured than he was. "Dean…I promise you that if I begin to feel lightheaded or weak, I'll stop. But _you're_ not going to be much of a help to _me_ if you're infected, in pain, and unable to hold anything."

For moments the two brothers stared each other down, neither one willing to concede defeat. Sam had VERY rarely ever won a battle of wills with his brother, especially not when it concerned something like this. He knew how hard it would be for Dean to back down. Dean would see this conversation as Sam saying he was too weak for the hunt, and of course Dean would go up against that- insisting on proving him wrong. But Sam still felt guilty…and worried about what he had inadvertently done to his brother, and he just couldn't take watching Dean's pain as he tried to shovel out a grave. Not to mention the fact that Dean could seriously damage his hands further by trying to shovel. Sam shook his head. Not this time…_this time_ he wouldn't back down.

Whether Dean subconsciously understood that Sam absolutely was not going to give in, or whether he accepted that Sam might have been right and he _could_ seriously damage his hands further by shoveling, didn't matter. Either way, the result was the same. With a defeated exhale, Dean took a step back from his brother. "Fine. But you feel dizzy or lightheaded AT ALL, you stop."

Sam nodded, almost awestruck that he had actually won a battle of wills. Dean pointed his broken finger at his brother as he drove home his point, "I mean it Sammy. You don't push yourself to get two more shovelfuls out of the way."

Sam nodded, "I swear Dean. The second I don't feel well, I'll stop."

Dean cautiously nodded, "I'm not kidding. Even if you've barely broken ground."

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded as he walked over to the grave area.

Dean called to his brother, cementing the warning. "Sam…"

Sam turned to his brother with an annoyed sigh. "I get it man….really…"

Dean nodded once, and then looked around. "Well this is just great. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"

Sam smiled as he broke into the muddy ground. "Just pretend you're back at my first salt and burn…"

Dean smiled and took a seat on the well, feet dangling over Orpheus' marker. "Yeah…that was a good time."

Sam paused in his shoveling to shoot his brother a look. Dean just grinned back at him, "Come on Sammy, I was breaking you in…made a man out of you."

Sam gave a laugh as he dug through more of the mud. "I don't remember dad seeing it that way when he found out that you made me dig out the whole grave by myself."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Please…you were a weakling. Barely had enough muscles to lift your backpack. How else were you gonna bulk up? You owe me man…if it weren't for me, you'd still be a bony little dweeb."

Sam shook his head, focused on his task. "Right. I'm sure my 'bulking up' is exactly what you had in mind when you sat on that rock and made me dig for five hours."

Dean smirked and looked at his watch, "Well, we don't have five hours this time Sammy-boy. Rooster crows at 4 am….better get a move on."

Sam paused to shoot his brother one more dirty look before returning his full concentration to his task and quickening his pace.

Sam's ability and strength to dig out a grave has improved SIGNIFICANTLY since the days when he was a 'bony little dweeb'. Within two hours of digging, a sweaty, dirty, and jacketless Sam felt his shovel reach the partially rotted pine box. Sam sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. Not only was the digging over (for the most part), but more importantly, he wouldn't have to hear anymore of Dean's 80s big hair band ballads. Two hours of listening to a bored Dean sing was enough to drive anyone crazy. In fact, only minutes before hitting the box Sam had seriously considered allowing Dean to shovel just to get him to shut the hell up.

Hearing the thump of Sam's shovel on the wood, Dean hopped off the side of the well and pointed his flashlight into the grave. The pine box had broken and rotted, leaving Orpheus' skull and dark brown hair partially exposed. Sam had dug most of the body out, but what was left was a collection of random bones and material embedded in the muddy earth. From four feet down in the grave, Sam looked up at his brother. "Dean…can you see the lyre?"

Dean shook his head. "All I see is a skull, some hair, a really bad tie, a pelvic bone, one leg, and a rotting hat."

Sam nodded and looked around his feet. "I think I'm standing on an arm…"

Dean grimaced in disgust and nodded. "See if you can find the hand. Maybe it's holding the lyre."

Sam looked up with a sickened expression, "You want me to touch it?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, "What are you a girl? It's a pile of bones Sam. Pretend you're on an expedition."

"Excavation…"

Dean nodded, "Whatever dude, just find the hand."

Shaking his head, Sam used his shovel to pick the dirt out from around the dead man's arm.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away from the grave in disbelief. "We're gonna be here forever…"

Finally finding the hand, Sam shoveled the mud away from the area underneath it. He stopped as his shovel picked up the object that had been underneath the hand. For a moment, Sam stood, transfixed, staring at the small object in his shovel. It wasn't the lyre…but then Orpheus had been buried with his _two_ most prized possessions. The lyre was one…this was the other.

Suddenly, a beam of light illuminated Sam's shovel, "What is that? Another skull?"

Sam nodded sadly in response to his brother's question. He looked at the small dirt filled skull with sympathy, taking note of the light brown hair that partially adorned the top of the bone. "It was his son Dean." Sam turned his compassionate eyes up towards his brother, "The one who died in his arms…he was buried holding him…this is his other most prized possession…"

For a moment Dean stared at the small skull and for the first time since Sam's illness, felt compassion for the man who once was Orpheus Wendel. Despite the fact that he had killed 32 people and was now leading an undead cult…the man had truly loved his family, which was something Dean could relate to. "Put it back under the hand Sam."

Sam nodded, carefully replacing the boy's skull. With a sad sigh, he turned to his brother, "The lyre must be in the other hand."

Dean nodded and redirected his flashlight to where Sam was digging. Finally, after a considerable amount of searching, Sam found what he was looking for. Carefully, Sam's shovel lifted the lyre from the dead man's hand.

Even crusted in mud it was a beautiful object. Ornately carved and made of gold. Even the lyre's strings appeared to have been made of gold. But then, what else could he have expected from an object created by an actual muse as a gift for the son of Apollo.

"Sam! Get out of there now!"

With a start Sam looked up to find Dean pointing the flashlight at his feet. Sam followed the beam of light down to find his feet covered in black, segmented, red-eyed maggots. "Shit!"

As though noticing someone looking at them, all the maggots simultaneously turned their beady eyes up towards their would-be victim. With a jump, Sam dropped the shovel and the lyre and jumped out of the grave. Unfortunately, the maggots held on to their prey, following Sam out of the grave. "Shit!"

Before Sam could even register what was happening, He felt something hit the leg of his pants causing steam to rise up over his legs.

"Don't just stand there Sam, move! Get them off!"

Sam looked up to find Dean shooting a Supersoaker filled with holy water at the maggots. When the hell had Dean gotten that? Without wasting more time on that question, Sam began following his brother's advice, kicking the melting maggots off his legs. After a few minutes, Sam's pants were all clear.

Learning from the past, Sam immediately walked over to the well and propped up his right leg. He removed his shoe and sock and then rolled his pant leg up looking for new cuts. Almost immediately, Sam spotted the bottom halves of two maggots undulating their way under his skin.

Just as the disgusted look reached his face, Sam's leg was basked in the beam of a flashlight. Not even a second later, a red, blistered hand came into view, yanking each maggot from its respective hole. Both maggots slid out of Sam with ease before they were place on the top of the well and lit on fire. Everything happened so fast that Sam's brain could barely catch up. The hand that had extracted the maggots had been unrecognizable, but when Sam looked to find its owner, he was met with the concerned/angry eyes of his older brother.

Sam shook his head, not understanding. "Dean…your hand…"

Dean nodded while shooting the holes in his brother's leg with holy water. "Holy water…works wonders on demonic maggots, but doesn't do shit for poison ivy."

Sam grimaced in pain and sympathy as Dean washed out his wounds. Dean was right…his hands didn't deserve the abuse they had been getting lately.

After the wounds ceased sizzling, Sam quickly redressed his right leg and undressed his left. Fortunately, none of the maggots seemed to have attacked that leg. Sam whined as he redressed himself. "Why do they always go after my right leg?"

Dean rolled his eyes and responded while rubbing his right ear. "Dude…shut up…you're talking to the man with no hands."

Sam nodded and turned, stopping at the site of his brother. "Dean? What are you doing?"

Dean grimaced, appearing to be in pain as he pulled his ear from his head. He shook his head, not truly answering his brother.

Concerned, Sam walked over and took hold of his brother's head. Dean continued to pull at his ear. With an edge of panic in his voice, Dean finally answered his brother's question, "Sam, I think something flew in my ear while I was shooting the maggots."

A shot of adrenaline pulsed through Sam's body, starting in his heart and bursting down his arteries through each of his limbs. Carefully, Sam turned his brother's head to the side. Sure enough, he immediately saw two red eyes staring at him from inside his brother's ear. "Shit."

Taking in a breath, Sam explained the situation to his brother. "It's demonic. I can see its eyes. I can't reach it without a pair of tweezers. Hang on."

With his face scrunched in pain, Dean shouted to his brother, "What? Sam, I can't hear you. It's wings are pounding against my eardrum!"

Sam took another breath to calm himself, his hands beginning to shake. Taking his brother's face in his hands, Sam made sure Dean was looking at him. "I'm getting tweezers. Hang on."

Dean nodded and Sam left his brother, running over to their bags in search of the first aid kit. Not a man to waste time, especially during an attack, Dean pulled the lighter fluid from his pocket and began dousing the bones and lyre while his brother searched for the tweezers.

Fortunately, the tweezers search didn't last too long and Sam sighed in temporary relief as he pulled the sharp object, along with two bottles of holy water, from his bag. Turning around quickly, Sam took in the site that immediately had him slipping in the mud and falling onto his ass.

Directly in front of him, Dean stood, pouring lighter fluid into the grave. However, not five feet from Dean, stood Orpheus Wendel. In his brown suit and ugly tie, watching intently as Sam's brother desecrated his grave. And then…behind Orpheus…stood all his victims. Standing in a pack, behind their leader, creepy smiles adorning each of their faces. With Dean's back to them, he had no idea they were there, and the worst part was, with the fly in his ear, Sam wasn't sure that Dean would hear him. But he had to try.

"DEAN!"

* * *

_One chapter left! Stay tuned for the end... and if you like it or hate it...review! Lemme know!  
_


	24. Charming the Charmer

_This is the end…I just really wanted to thank everyone who has stuck with this story. Thank you so much- and for all those who took the time to review and let me know that you enjoyed the story- REALLY BIG THANK YOUS! Each review just meant so much to me- you have no idea. I loved them all, so thank you for taking the time to do that._

_This chapter features a poem and a song. The poem is Le Chêne et le Roseau by Jean de La Fontaine (in English known as The Oak and the Reed). The song is the Hearse song- it's very old and I don't know who wrote it. If you don't know the tune, you can google 'The Hearse Song' and there are several sites with midi files of the tune. Anyway, it might help to know the tune so that you can picture it in your mind…_

_Oh! And just as a warning…this chapter is really cheesy and sappy, so it might be a little off character…sorry, I couldn't help it._

_**LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: **I did not know that…see, you learn something new everyday. I think the boys might take your advice…  
**Spuffyshipper: **Glad you liked the poison ivy…I'm not sure Dean does though…  
**Brokenwind: **Ow! No shaking me! Here! Read this! Then you'll know what happened!  
**AcidChic: **Haven't seen The Faculty, but this whole story has reminded me of Bugs...  
**Fiona: **Well, you don't have to wait anymore! Here it is…the last chapter!  
**Anon: **Well, I meant no tricks when I said hurt!Dean…hopefully this chapter satisfies you…if not I'm sorry…but he does cry in pain…that should be good, right?  
**Morgan: **Thanks! I'm glad you continue to enjoy it! Here's the next/last chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 24: Charming the Charmer**

The panic in his brother's voice broke through the painful drumming in his ear, causing Dean to look up with a start. Sam's face held a look of alarm and his eyes were focused on something behind Dean. With a sigh (he didn't even want to know), Dean turned around…and found him practically face-to-face with a man who, based on the ugly tie, had to be Orpheus Wendel. Behind Orpheus, Dean could see his victims, all smiling and looking at Sam. Sam had been right- they were creepy. The fact that the victims were all staring at Sam caused a warning bell to go off in Dean's head.

He needed to see Sam, but couldn't turn his back on the spirits. Carefully, Dean backed up until both Sam and the maggot victims were all in his field of vision. Although he wasn't sure what was happening, it was clear that the maggot victims were doing something to Sam. Sam was lying on the floor- in the mud. Every few seconds, he seemed to try to stand up, only to slip in the mud and fall back on his face. Dean would've found the sight extremely funny if the circumstances were different.

"Dean. It's nice to be able to speak with you."

Both brothers turned their heads at the sound of Orpheus' voice. From his frustrating position on the ground, Sam felt fear shoot through his body. Not only did he seem to be unable to get up, but apparently Dean could now see Orpheus, which meant that the fly in his ear was poisoning him. Driven with worry for his brother, Sam pushed himself up…only to quickly loose his footing and end up with his nose in the mud…again.

He had to get the fly out of Dean's ear…Sam considered his options. If he couldn't stand, maybe he could crawl to Dean. Dean was currently standing only five feet from Sam, but on the other side of the grave. If Sam could crawl around the grave, he might be able to reach his brother. With a surge of determination, Sam began a commando crawl to propel himself forward.

Unfortunately, rather going forward, with every crawl, Sam seemed to sink. The mud beneath him was becoming looser and with every forward motion of his arm or leg, Sam would sink deeper into the mud. After five desperate repetitions, Sam found himself trapped- halfway submerged in suctioning mud. He now had to strain his neck just to keep his head out of the mud so that he could breathe. Intensely frustrated, Sam turned his head to the right to see Orpheus and his brother. Dean was still grimacing and pulling on his ear, although he had managed to work in a concerned look for Sam. But seeing Dean grimace reminded Sam- he had to find a way out of the mud to help his brother.

"Dean?"

Orpheus' voice drew Dean's attention away from his sinking brother and back to the situation at hand. With a sarcastic smirk, Dean answered the specter, "I'm guessing you're the Greek asshole that's leading this cult?"

Orpheus smiled back, unfazed by Dean's sarcastic attitude. "I know what your plans are…I would like the opportunity to speak with you first…before you light my grave on fire."

Dean looked around through the crowd standing behind Orpheus, "Where's your son?"

Orpheus took a breath, if ghosts did that, before answering with a sad smile, "I assume you are referring to Michael, the son whose remains you found. I truly appreciate your replacing his skull under what once was my hand. Thank you. As for my son, he is with his mothers and siblings- in a world beyond this one."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded nonchalantly, "Too bad you're not with them…"

Again Orpheus gave Dean another sad smile, "There's a large part of me that wishes I could be. And as it is, if you complete your task tonight, I may well end up there… if I am not reborn. As it stands I am currently exiled from the underworld."

Dean nodded and pulled out a lighter, "That's thrilling. Really, love to hear all about that, but I'm kind of on a timetable here, so…"

The ghost interrupted him, "I'm offering you the deal Dean."

Immediately both brothers froze. Sam, who had been listening to the conversation with frustration and trepidation, immediately felt his blood pressure skyrocket. This was it…the moment that he'd prayed would never happen. Dean had already said, multiple times, that he would take the deal. Sam shook his head; he had to stop this. If he couldn't move his body, maybe he could try to talk Dean out of it. "Dean!"

Dean turned to his brother's voice. "Dean no!" Whatever Sam said after that, Dean didn't hear. At the sound of Sam's voice, the fly in Dean's ear seemed to go berserk, drumming against Dean's eardrum at an intense speed and volume. Grimacing in pain, Dean double over and clutched his ear.

Sam saw his brother's reaction and, forgetting his immobility, immediately tried to reach his brother. Instead he only sunk further. Now Sam's arms and legs were completely encased in the mud; his head turned to the right, mud covering his left eye and half of his mouth. Looking up, Orpheus spoke to him, "Your speaking is causing him pain Sam. This is his decision to make. You had your own chance. It is his now."

Sam growled in frustration. He was completely helpless- there was nothing he could do to help Dean…and if Orpheus was offering the deal, Dean was about to die. Sam felt his face beginning to burn as tears reached his eyes. He tried desperately to move his arms, but the mud held. There was nothing he could do- he just couldn't move. It was up to Dean now…and normally, that would be enough to put Sam's mind at ease. He trusted Dean implicitly, but not in this case. Dean had already told Sam what his answer would be. Desperately, Sam moved his eyes to his brother.

Immediately their eyes met and Sam tried desperately to convey his pleas through his eyes. He was terrified…and Dean had never missed that look on Sam's face before. Dean always knew when Sam was scared, he would have to know this time as well- the only question was, would it matter? It wasn't fair, Dean got the opportunity to give a speech, why didn't Sam…but then, Sam would just be reiterating the same speech Dean had made three days before. This situation sucked.

Sam watched as Dean turned his eyes away and back over to Orpheus. Dean's eyes held regret in them and Sam felt a tear drip from his eye. The only reason Dean would be feeling regret is because he was regretting what he was about to do to Sam. Just as Sam began searching for another way to help Dean, Orpheus spoke.

"Dean, this is not my way of trying to manipulate you. I had originally arranged this situation so that I could watch over my orphaned children and be sure they led long healthy lives. I have achieved what I had set out to do. My children are gone now. As I said, if you destroy the lyre now, I will either join them or be reborn. I am offering you this deal because I have connected with you several times. I know the situation that faces you and your brother, and I know how desperate you are to save him. I'm handing that to you. You're crumbling Dean. I felt it three days ago when the fly touched your hand. If you accept this deal, you can rest, and Sam will always be safe. I will give you power over that demon, and you wouldn't be alone. I would help you. I am a Greek god Dean, I can protect you, and your brother from anything. I am offering that to you in exchange for the lyre."

Sam watched his brother's face closely throughout Orpheus' speech. As per Dean's usual modus operandi, Dean's face was a mask. Regret, fear, and misery seemed to escape the façade every now and then, but for the most part, Sam couldn't gain any information from Dean's expression.

Now that he was a spectator, rather than an active participant, Sam could see through Orpheus' charm. The man was good- Sam had to give him that, but it was clear that he wasn't being entirely forthright. For one thing, he claimed to not care about the lyre being destroyed, but then seconds later offered to make a deal for it. The problem was that Orpheus had incorporated enough truth in his speech that it could be effective even if Dean saw through his magical charm. The truth was that Orpheus _could_ protect them…he could save them from the demon. But in Sam's mind, the price for that protection was too high- it wasn't worth Dean's life, or soul. Sam felt himself growing cold…Dean wouldn't see it the same way.

Sam's thoughts stopped as Orpheus spoke again, "Dean, you're tired of running, you're tired of being frightened, you're tired of this responsibility that your father and the world have handed you. Allow me to help you."

Sam began to shake as he watched Dean nod and take a step towards Orpheus. Finally, Dean spoke, "Sam read somewhere that you like songs and poems."

The ghost smiled, "Yes. I enjoy them very much. There was a time when I was known for them."

Dean smiled wider, "You ever hear the poem The Oak and the Reed?"

Somewhat curious, Orpheus shook his head. Dean nodded again, "Originally it was a French poem, but I only know the English version. My mom used to read it to me, and then I read it to myself after that. I think you'd like it Orpheus."

Orpheus smiled and nodded, giving the floor to his brother, "Well, then, by all means, I'd love to hear it."

From his helpless position partially incased in mud, Sam watched as Dean made a brief eye-contact with him and then turned his head back to Orpheus. Then he began the poem,

"_One day the Oak said, 'Reed, let's talk.  
You have good reason to complain.  
Even a wren must be a burden on your stalk  
And any passing puff of air   
That wrinkles the water's face makes you bow down.  
Yet in my case, my brow,  
Unyielding as a granite mountainside,  
Not only stops those rays the sun shoots far and wide  
But it defies huge tempests, too.  
Life is a breeze for me, a hurricane for you.  
If you could spring up here beneath my leafage,  
Spread to shelter everything around,  
You'd have no need to fear the storm  
For I would guard you night and day,  
And yet you seem confined to ground  
That borders humid kingdoms where the winds hold sway.  
No, nature is not fair to you, I have to say.'"_

Sam, impressed, watched Orpheus agree with his brother's poem. "Yes, I can see where that would be fitting. I am much like the oak, and you the reed."

Dean nodded, "That's not the end."

Orpheus laughed, "I apologize then, continue…"

With a breath, Dean continued the poem,

"'_Your compassion', replied the Reed_  
'_Shows a noble character indeed;  
But do not worry: the winds for me  
Are much less dangerous than for thee;"_

As Dean emphasized these next words, he turned, making clear eye-contact with his brother,  
"_I bend, not break."_

Everything seemed to stop in that instant as Sam came to the shocking realization that his faith in Dean never needed to be questioned. With more confidence than he had felt all night, Sam watched as Dean turned back to Orpheus to continue the poem. Sam knew in that moment, what Dean had apparently known all along- they wouldn't be loosing to Orpheus.

"_You have 'til now  
Resisted the wind's great force unbowed,  
But beware.  
As he said these very words  
A violent angry storm arose." _

Picking up on the fact that something had changed, Orpheus' face took on an expression of suspicious confusion. However, before he had a chance to think on it any further, Dean flipped open the lighter in his left hand and dropped it into the grave. Orpheus screamed in denial as he ran forward towards his burning bones and lyre. Then, in a flash, with echoing screams of fear, Orpheus and his followers vanished.

As Sam pulled his way out of the mud, he listened as his brother finished the poem while watching the grave burn,

"_The violent angry storm arose,  
The tree held strong; the Reed he bent.  
The wind redoubled and did not relent,  
Until finally it uprooted the poor Oak  
Whose head had been in the heavens  
And roots among the dead folk."_

Sam smiled, having freed himself from the mud just as his brother finished the poem. There were moments when Dean's… perseverance, intelligence, wisdom, and strength literally floored Sam to the ground. His older brother was so cool… Just as Sam was about to say something that would undoubtedly embarrass his brother, Dean screamed in pain and fell to the mud.

As Sam ran to his brother, he could see the flames licking the side of his Dean's head. With a slide, Sam flew onto the ground next to his brother and poured a bottle of holy water into his brother's flaming ear. Below him, Dean's face was scrunched in pain, silent tears streaming from his eyes. Sam's legs were under most of Dean's body and Sam could feel Dean's shaking, injured hand grabbing onto Sam's muddy pants and squeezing with all his might. Sam couldn't even imagine the amount of pain Dean had to have been in having the inside of his ear on fire.

Pulling his brother's back to his chest, Sam continued to pour the holy water over his brother's burnt, but no longer flaming head. When the water ran out, Sam put down the bottle and rubbed his brother's arm as Dean struggled to get his breathing under control. Sam looked down to find his brother gasping- tear lines running down his face. Dean was clearly in shock as he stared at the ground and Sam squeezed his brother tighter. Sam looked in his brother's ear. Already the outside and the inside of the ear were blistering, the scent of burnt hair filled his nostrils. Inside the ear, Sam could see the burnt remains of the fly. Apparently it had spontaneously combusted as the lyre had burned. Taking a breath, Sam spoke gently to his brother. "Dean? I need to get the rest of the fly out. Lean your head on my knee."

Sam lifted his knee and watched with great concern as Dean carefully rested his head on it. Through his own ears, he could hear Dean's harsh, gasping, and hitched breaths. Dean still held onto Sam's leg with his broken hand.

Using the second bottle of holy water, Sam washed the mud off of the tweezers before bringing them to his brother's ear. With one hand to hold Dean's head still, Sam used the other to carefully extract the fly's remains from his brother's ear. Finally, after all but a few ashes had been removed, Sam again spoke softly to his brother, "Dean…I'm going to pour some water in you ear, then I'm going to push your head to the side to let it drain out, ok?"

Sam felt his brother nod. Taking a breath, he readied the water, "Ready?"

Dean closed his eyes, "Just do it Sammy."

Sam felt a tear leak from his own eyes at the sound of his brother's pain and Sam slowly began to pour the water. Both brothers had expected more, but there was no steaming…or pain. Simultaneously both boys released a breath and Sam helped Dean turn his head over. This time Dean spoke, "I guess the poison disappeared along with Orpheus…"

Sam nodded. "We need to get you to the vet."

Dean turned removing the pain from his face to give his brother a disbelieving look, "Excuse me?"

Although Dean was now sitting on his own, Sam kept one hand on his brother's arm, as much for his own support as for Dean's. "Dean, your ear's gonna need to be looked at…before it gets infected."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "And you expect the _vet_ to do what? I look like a dog to you?"

Not wanting to argue, Sam shook his head and came up with an alternative, "Fine. Uh, we'll drive to the nearest hospital. There's some antiseptic cream in the first aid kit, we'll put that on you until we can get there."

Dean nodded, "Fine man, but you're changing first."

Sam looked down at his muddy body. He wasn't going to waste time changing, no way in hell. "Dean…there's no way. You probably have third degree burns _inside_ your ear. You could loose your hearing, if it gets infected, you could get meningitis. You have two choices- the vet or the hospital…with the mud."

Dean pulled at his earlobe with a grimace, his ear really did hurt. Taking a breath, he sighed in defeat, "Fine. The vet. But Sam…off limits."

Sam nodded, worry plastered all over his features. "Never happened."

Reaching down, Sam helped his brother stand up. He tried to put Dean's arm over his shoulder only to be pushed away, "I can walk Sam."

Sam sighed, still filled with worry…no wonder Dean had lost it for three days, it sucked to be on the helpless end. Sam spoke as the brothers walked over to the vet's office. "Dean? About what you said…in the poem…about not breaking…"

Dean shook his head, not looking at his brother, "Even reeds only bend so far dude…" Then he turned his eyes to his brother's, "But don't worry about it." Dean turned his eyes back to the road, "You'll never see me break."

Sam sighed in frustration, "Dean. You have to quit hiding things from me. The reason this all feels like a burden is because you won't share the load."

Protecting Sam from worry wasn't what he had been referring to. He had meant, that if he ever broke, it'd be _because_ Sam was gone. Sam would never see it happen because if Sam was around, it _wouldn't_ happen. But Sam didn't need to know that. Dean shook his head, "That's wasn't what I meant Sammy."

Sam grew confused, "Then what?"

Dean shook his head again, "Drop it man, I'm not in the mood."

Sam kicked the rock in front of him in frustration, "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're hurting and you won't let me help you."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Dude, you already helped me. You got the bug out of my ear, you put out the fire, you dug the grave…you helped."

"Dean…"

Dean just shook his head. Giving up, Sam moved to a slightly different subject, "Dean? Just…how come you didn't take it? I mean, I'm glad. I…I didn't want you to, but after what you said, I thought…"

Dean nodded, he had seen the way Sam looked at him during Orpheus' speech. And that look had shaken Dean to the core. He hadn't realized, until it was missing, that whenever Sam looked at him, the look was filled with trust. But at that grave sight, Sam hadn't had faith in him. Ironically, in the end, it was that look that had pushed Dean's unsure mind to reject Orpheus' deal. Maybe he was being selfish, giving up his brother's safe and secure life, but he couldn't leave the world with Sam looking at him like that.

Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Dean?"

Dean sighed, apparently Sam was still waiting for an answer- God Sam was annoying. Dean threw on a smirk, lacing his voice with sarcasm, "Yeah well… It all comes with the job…I've gotta watch what I do…" Dean widened his smirk as he looked at Sam, "I know how much you look up to me…"

Sam scoffed, rolled his eyes, and shook his head, "You really are an ass."

Dean laughed and the brothers continued the next few minutes of the walk in the silence of their own thoughts…until Sam spoke again, "I do you know."

Dean looked over confused, "Do what?"

Sam briefly made eye-contact, "Look up to you."

Dean made a face of disgust as he moved away from his brother, "Oh God. You're not gonna hug me now…"

Sam drew a small smile as he looked at his brother seriously, "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Dean smiled, "You should have more faith in me Sammy."

Sam shook his head and pointed a finger at his brother, "I'm serious Dean. You better not pull something like that again."

Dean smirked and stopped walking, stepping up to his brother in challenge, "Or you'll do what college boy?"

Sam took the challenge and met his brother nose to nose. He spoke in a low threatening voice, "I'm not bluffing…you scare me like that again and I _will_ hug you…_and_ I'll use the 'l' word."

Dean's eyes went wide in fear as his face drained of color. Then his expression changed and he smirked, "Lesbian?"

Sam glared and growled in frustration- he thought for sure Dean would back down to that threat… But once again, he had no chance- Dean won everything… Huffing in frustration, Sam turned on his heel and stalked ahead of his brother. Behind him, Dean stood watching Sam march ahead. He joked, but he got Sam's message. Hell, he had been there himself- he knew exactly how Sam felt. With a shake of his head, Dean ran to catch up with his brother.

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It was two hours later, around 5:30 in the morning that the brothers, now clean, found there way walking back to the car. It had been a long two hours with Dean under the vet's scrutinizing care and with Sam explaining to Molly and the sheriff/mayor just what they were trying to do. Sam shrugged as he thought back on his story- it wasn't all that far from the truth. He had just left out a few things, and had no reasonable explanation as to why they had decided to do it at night… In the end, he had told Molly and the mayor that they had dug up the grave believing that the illness' origin was coming from the grave and then they had burned the grave to rid it of the bacteria that had been infecting the well. The story was well received, except for the made up insomnia that didn't allow the boys to wait until morning.

As for Dean, the prognosis was good, although there'd be no hunting for awhile. Sam watched his brother as he walked. Both of Dean's hands were pink, covered in Calamine lotion and Benadryl to prevent the itching and decrease the rash. His right pointer finger, the only part of his hands untouched by the poison ivy, remained in a splint. Dean's entire right ear was covered in a bandage, along with a small portion of his scalp. Sam winced as he remembered Dean's reaction to seeing that part of his hair had been burnt off. Somehow, it wasn't surprising that Dean had cared more about _that_ than the fact that his ear had been on fire.

The burns had been bad, and would need treatments several times a day. And although, for whatever reason, the vet had been able to give Dean a few sample packets of acceptable pain killers, they would need to stop again at an actual doctor's for more once they got into a larger town. Thankfully though, Dean's hearing had not been damaged, nor had his eardrum or his inner ear. Only his outer ear had sustained injury, but provided they took care of it properly, it would eventually heal.

As they approached the car, Sam called over to his brother, "Dean!"

Dean turned to look at him and Sam held out a hand, "Keys!"

Dean gave an unhappy, resigned nod, "Yeah okay…" and threw the keys to his brother.

Sam smiled and walked over to open his brother's door. As Sam stood up from unlocking the door, he came face to face with a glaring, unamused Dean, "I'm not your date Sam."

Sam smiled and patted his brother's shoulder before walking around the car, "It's just a door dude…I'm not trying to usurp your role."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Usurp…" Then he grinned, "You found the toilet paper."

Sam laughed and unlocked his own door. "I knew you weren't coming up with those words on your own."

Dean rolled his eyes, "You know nothing."

Sam laughed again and then, turning serious, looked across the roof of the car at his brother, "Dean…I know I said it, and I know you don't want to hear it, but it's just…"

Dean stared, a nervous look on his face as Sam searched for words. Whatever Sam was about to say, Dean was pretty sure that it would cross some sort of emotional line.

Finally, Sam found his words. Taking a breath, he let the words spill over the roof of the car, "This morning could've been really different for me, you know? I just…" He looked up at Dean, "I wouldn't want to do this alone. Even if you were watching…I'd…Dean, I need you here…smacking me around and annoying the hell out of me with Green Eggs and Ham and other shit like that…"

Dean understood. That was exactly what he had been trying to tell Sam earlier.

Not getting any response from his brother, Sam sighed and went to end the overly emotional conversation that he had inflicted upon his brother, "I just wanted you to know Dean. I'm glad you're here…and thanks…for everything…and not taking the deal. I know you had planned to."

Dean smiled a crooked smile and looked off to the side, then almost laughing to himself, he looked back up at Sam, "Yeah…I was gonna take it, but I had a good role model."

Dean turned away before he could see the involuntary smile light up his brother's face. He didn't need to see it; he knew it was there. The compliment to Sam was also an insult to their father in the same breath, but Dean didn't care. In this case, as far as he was concerned, Sam had done the right thing, their father hadn't. Even if Sam had only made that decision because Dean had asked him to, in the end, Sam had been strong enough to do the right thing- and that was something Dean could look up to.

From across the car Sam. Still smiling, managed to respond, "It was just something someone taught me along the way: you don't make deals with demons…"

Dean shook his head, "No…you don't."

Changing the subject, Sam called back across the car, "So we're leaving the town. Who won?"

Dean looked confused for a moment before he realized that his brother was talking about the embarrassment war. He shrugged, "Four-four. Tie…Although I did walk in on you watching porn, five-four."

Sam smiled and nodded, "Yeah? When you were five you crapped in a model toilet in the hardware store."

Dean's face turned beet red, "Dude! How'd you find out about that?!"

Sam only laughed, "So we're calling it a tie?"

Still red, Dean went to nod, but then stopped, a devious look covering his face, "Flip for the winner?"

Sam's eyes grew suspicious, but then thinking for a moment, he smiled his own devious smile, "Fine."

Dean smiled and pulled a coin from his pocket and threw it into the air, "Call it Sammy."

Sam smiled confidently and crossed his arms, "Tails."

The coin landed and both boys looked. Then, with an arrogant laugh, Dean removed the head-up coin from the roof of the car, "Sorry Sam- you lose."

Still laughing, Dean hopped into the car, and still staring at the hood, Sam stood baffled. He had been _sure_ that the coin was two-tailed…how could it have ended up with heads? Giving up, Sam shook his head and slipped into the driver's seat of the Impala.

Next to him, Dean gloated in his victory while fingering the two-headed coin in his pocket. "You'll never win man…I don't know why you even try…"

Sam shot his brother a sideline glare before throwing the car into drive. Immediately Dean sat up annoyed, "Hey! Easy with the car!"

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out, "I'm putting in requirements…next motel needs to have electricity and clean water."

Dean smiled as he watched the sun begin to creep its crown over the mountains, "Come on man…that fireplace saved our lives. If it hadn't been right there we'd have drowned in maggots."

Sam nodded, his eyes on the road, "That's another requirement…no maggots."

Dean laughed, "Hey Sam… you remember that Halloween song I taught you when you were like seven?"

Biting his lip, _clearly_ remembering, Sam shook his head, "No."

Dean laughed again, "Sure you do. You liked it so much you sang it the whole rest of the year. You even wanted your class to sing it in the Christmas pageant."

Sam grit his teeth, "It was a concert, not a pageant."

Dean pointed his broken finger, "Ha! You do remember!"

Knowing where this was going, Sam winced and shook his head, "Dean seriously…I was just standing in a grave with maggots crawling into my body…"

Dean interrupted him, "All the more reason for the song Sammy…now how'd it start…"

Sam gripped the wheel tighter, "Dean…"

Taking a breath, Dean began singing,  
"_Don't you laugh as a hearse goes by,  
for you may be the next to die.  
They wrap you up in a big white sheet,  
And cover you up from your head down to your feet.  
They put you in a big black box,  
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.  
All goes well for about a week,  
And then your coffin begins to leak."_

Sam interrupted his brother, "Dean…I'm not kidding…"

As to be expected, he was ignored,  
"_The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,  
The worms play pinochle on your snout.  
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,  
They eat the jelly between your toes.  
A big black worm with rolling eyes,  
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes."_

Sam shook his head and squinted his eyes, trying to block out Dean's voice without crashing the car. "Dean…I swear to God…"

Unfazed Dean continued,  
"_Your stomach turns a slimy green,  
And pus pours out like whipping cream.  
You spread it out on a slice of bread,  
And that's what you eat when you are dead."_

Sighing with relief at the end of the song, Sam nodded, "That was great…you done now?"

Dean smiled "This time you sing too…"

Sam quickly glanced over at his brother shocked, "What?!"

"_Oohhhh…Don't you laugh as a hearse goes by…  
for you may be the next to die."_

"DEAN!"

* * *

_Sniff, sniff, it's over... Just wanted to thank you all again for sticking with this story till the very end...Thank you so much!  
_

_ And of course, as always, review if you liked, or hated, or whatever...  
_


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